The Marksman
by BellaMadonna
Summary: Can love blossom in the blistering heat of Devil's Fork, AZ? When Ed Cullen, a gunslinger on the run, meets up with unusual beauty, Izzy Swan, the two join forces to take down the evil Valentine brothers. The Wild West has never been hotter! AH/AU, E/B
1. Buckskins and Petticoats

**Welcome to this fun little collaboration between Melolabel and BellaMadonna, with heavy input from our awesome beta Sweetthunder. . . .**

"**The Marksman"**

**Disclaimer: Twilight Characters, not ours. But we sure do like taking them on a wild west adventure...**

**So, sit back, relax, and allow yourself to experience the heady splendor that is ….**

**~*~ Westward ~*~**

**The Marksman**

**Chapter One -- Buckskins and Petticoats**

_Middle of Nowhere, Arizona, June 1875_

The blood dripped from his nose landing softly in the loose dirt and sand below. He reached his bound hands up to plug one side of his nose and blew hard, expelling a bloody clot onto the ground. Once he could breathe better, the throbbing in his battered head became nearly overwhelming. He was so close to passing out again he almost didn't notice the inverted position he was currently in.

He could feel the scorch of the noon-day sun on his bare feet and the skin of his ankles were rubbed raw by the coarse rope that was holding him strung up-side down on this infernal tree. His eyes were almost swollen shut and from all the blood he could taste, he was pretty sure a tooth had been knocked out. He needed a mirror and a bucket of water to make any further observations.

The soft moan coming from next to him forced him to pry open one puffy eye and, to his great displeasure, take note of the woman next to him. His vision was hazy and the heat was rolling off the dirt below him in waves, between the blood and sweat trickling down his face he could barely make her out, but there was no mistaking who hung next to him. Cursing under his breath, he lamented the misfortune of having to spend his last living moments with the craziest female he'd ever met!

He cursed again, loudly, when she groaned, "Eddie? You still alive?"

The thought of ignoring her was appealing, but now that she'd heard him, she would never leave him in peace. "Confound it woman, I have told you more than once, my name is not Eddie."

The tree branch began to shake lightly as the woman grunted and twisted her body. "Now don't you be so cross mister, I knows my Eddie." She was likewise strung up by her ankles and desperately trying to keep her skirts out of her face. And she was trying even more desperately to not think about how her bloomers were on display to the whole world.

The beaten man craned his head a bit so that he could get a better idea of his predicament. He winced as a sharp pain streaked through his chest. He added a broken rib to his mental tally of injuries. The ominous creak of the tree stilled the man but didn't seem to affect the writhing woman one bit. He couldn't tell exactly how far off the ground they were swinging, but he was sure it wouldn't be a pleasant trip down.

"If you don't quit squirmin' around you're gonna get us both killed," he hissed.

"But Eddie, I can't see, and I don't want anyone lookin' at my never-you-minds," she huffed.

"Hold still, no one is looking at your drawers because no one is here," he roared, "and for the love of everything holy, stop callin' me Eddie!"

For several minutes he relished the silence, it was almost peaceful listening to the breeze, or the occasional cry of the hawk. He was even slightly distracted from the pounding in his head that came from being up-side down for so long. His respite, however, was short lived when the despondent wails of the woman next to him broke through the air.

She was blubbering almost incoherently about how she was just trying to fix her skirts, and why'd he have to be so mean, and that he didn't love her anymore. She continued rambling on and on as she choked her sobs out into the hot desert air.

There were only two things in the world that he couldn't handle. The first was injustice; the second was a crying woman. And this poor lady was a bawling mess. They'd only met in town a handful of times, but she had somehow convinced herself that he was her "Eddie", and had latched on to him like a thistle burr in a dogs tail. He was more of the loner type, the last thing he wanted was anyone latching on. People were just problems, especially people like her. It's just the way it always was for him.

But here she was cryin' like a baby and he had to stop it before the sound made him crawl right out of his skin. Now, he wasn't sure if the posse had meant for the hangin' to be his punishment or the lunatic of a woman by his side.

"Hey," he soothed, with a voice like honey, "hey, I...I didn't mean anything by it. Just stop your fussin' and we can figure something out."

She sniffed loudly and calmed a bit, but waited a while before answering him. "What did you have in mind?"

In his mental inventory he realized that they'd forgotten the small blade he kept sheathed in the back of his buckskin pants. He gently twisted toward the opposite side in an attempt to avoid the pain in his ribs, but failed. He fought the ropes that bound his hands over his head, but it was no use. Whoever had trussed him up was serious. In a quick motion, he tried to jerk the joined hands around to the back of his breeches but the sharp pain in his torso cut him short.

The tree groaned in protest to his thrashing about, stilling his movements once again. He blinked a few times trying to clear the sweat and bloody haze from his eyes so he could focus on where _she_ was swinging.

"Hey Love, do you think you can reach the back of my pants if you gave a little swing?"

She sighed and giggled a bit, bunching her skirts into one hand, "Oh Eddie," she said all dreamy-like, "you know what it does to me when you call me that."

Yes, he did in fact know what it did; it made her even crazier than she already was!

"But you are out of your cotton-pickin' mind if you reckon' I'm puttin' my hands down the back side of your britches. How can you even think like that at a time like this, here I am with every creature in God's good world lookin' at my bloomers, and you want me to do what?" She let out an indignant "humpf" and let her arms dangle, allowing her skirts to once again fall around her head.

"Now I'm not tryin' to be fresh; I have a knife hid there, but I can't reach it. If you can grab it, then I just might be able to cut us down." As much as he disliked the idea of traveling anywhere with this woman, the gentleman in him wouldn't allow even a crazy lady to die in the desert. Their only hope would be to get to some kind of shelter before the buzzards and coyotes showed up.

She pushed her skirts out of her eyes again and looked sideways at his swinging torso. She truly wouldn't mind getting a firm grip on his backside. In fact, it was one of the nicest buckskin clad backsides she'd seen ever. But she still had to maintain some level of propriety, even if he was her Eddie. She considered her options for a brief moment. She may have been crazy but she was not dumb!

"Fine, but don't be tryin' any funny business," she warned. He snorted and responded, "I think I should be givin' you that warning."

The branch creaked louder and she quickly realized that her window of opportunity was small to begin with, and getting smaller all the time. It was helpful that he was mostly facing the right way to begin with. Hopefully the branch wouldn't break before she had a chance to grab the knife.

"Hurry now, we ain't got much time," his strained voice urged.

She tucked her skirt into the bodice of her dress to keep it out of her face and she chuckled to herself as she figured she probably should've done that a while ago. She reached her tied up arms toward her hanging partner and then back away slowly, building up the momentum needed to reach her target: His butt! His cotton shirt had fallen out of the waist of his trousers exposing his lean back and angular hips. He was covered in sweat and grime and his tanned skin was just starting to get a slightly pink glow from the sun. And she just couldn't help but lick her parched lips a bit at the sight. She needed water, to be sure, but she was parched in more ways than one.

She pushed her arms back and forth one more time before she was able to grab on to the back of his pants. Her wrists chafed against the rough rope and she let out a most un-lady like grunt as she fumbled for the sheath. After a minute of carefully feeling all along his waistband, she could feel where the knife was hidden. She caught it in between the tips of her fingers and gently extracted it from its hiding place.

"Don't let go of me. I'm gonna turn and hold on to you while you cut my wrists loose, alright Darlin'?" Her joy at hearing him call her Darlin' caused her to release her grip on his pants and she swung away from him, desperately trying to hold on to the knife in her fingertips. He cursed under his breath. When she swung back towards him a sharp crack could be heard and the man cursed again quite loudly, she noted this was becoming a habit that just wouldn't do. She gasped as he grabbed hold of her skirts and ordered her to cut his bindings.

Using her teeth, she removed the sheath and awkwardly began cutting his ropes trying not to knick his skin to many times, but his hands were like tough leather gloves. Once he was free he snatched the knife from her and dispatched the ropes around her wrists in a like manner. He let her go slowly, trying to avoid any more unnecessary shaking on the branch.

He sucked in as much air as he could with his broken rib and with a labored grunt he reached up to where his feet were bound and grabbed onto the rope. He sawed his way quickly through the knots around his ankles and then realized suddenly that he was hanging twelve feet above the ground! He made a desperate attempt to grab the limb with his hands but his weakened grasp began to slip and he tried to prepare himself for the fall.

He crumpled to the ground with a deadened thud and rolled to his good side groaning.

"Eddie? Eddie! Are you hurt? Say somethin'!" her voice was filled with anxiety.

"I'm fine, jus' gimme a minute." He couldn't find any new injuries from the fall so he attempted to stand but fell back to the ground, his head spinning from having been up-side down for the better part of the morning. While he was gathering his thoughts and wits, he could see that a few vultures had started gathering above, and a few snakes and scorpions below.

After a few deep breaths he was able to stand up without falling and began contemplating how he was going to get her down. But the way she was carrying one and wailing, perhaps he should just leave.

Fate made the decision for him though when the branch groaned and he heard another loud cracking noise. He could see that the weak point where the branch met the tree was already split and giving way. He squinted up into the bright sky and tried to position himself under the woman enough that he could catch her or at the very least, break her fall.

Like a crack of lightning, the branch completely split from the tree and she was screaming bloody murder as she fell. He bore the brunt of the fall and managed to roll them both out of the way just before the heavy wood landed on top of them.

They both lay on the parched ground breathing heavily, his face was dripping with sweat and her hair was a tangled mess. He lifted himself up slowly and picked up the knife he'd dropped a moment ago and set to work removing her ankle bindings.

The sun was directly overhead, and the heat was only going to get worse. They'd taken his boots and he noticed that her shoes were gone as well; they'd even made off with his hat, the filthy scumbags. He looked down at her skirts and lifted the edge of the dust covered blue silk. She slapped his hand and made an irritated tsk noise at him, but he'd already discovered what he wanted to know.

"Take off your petticoat."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"Of all the low down dirty rotten things! I thought I could trust you." She could feel the tears welling up in her dry eyes and made no attempt to try and stop them. One lonesome tear streaked down her dirty face leaving a moist trail in its wake. She had thought that he was honorable. Now it seemed she had her proof that he was just like all the other toughs in the town coming after her left and right. She turned away and lifted up her blue skirt and untied the petticoat letting it fall around her feet.

She'd give him the petticoat, but if he thought for one minute he was getting anything else, then he had another thing coming!

She kicked it towards the man with a fiery defiance in her eyes. He smirked and picked up the fabric taking his knife to the seam, tearing the fabric in two. She gasped and watched in horror as he made mincemeat out of her underskirt.

"Sit down and give me your foot."

"You ruined my skirt. How could you do that?" It was her very best petticoat, and he tore it to shreds like it meant nothing.

"If you'd like to walk through hell in bare feet be my guest." He grabbed a handful of the strips and began swathing his feet with the cloth. She sat dumbly and watched as he carefully bound his feet, putting extra material on the bottoms and covering the wounds around his ankles. He tied off the last band and looked over at her.

"Well?" He asked her, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.

She swallowed her ridiculous pride and thrust her foot at him while staring off in the other direction. He wrapped her feet in a like manner and then hopped up. She reached her hand to his and stood up, wobbling a bit, still trying to recover her balance. He cut one more large piece to tie around his head and wrapped the wrest in a ball and handed it over to her. "Well it's not much use to me now, is it?!" She said as she tried to push the destroyed petticoat back at him. "Trust me, when it gets dark and cold out here and we have to start a fire, it'll do you plenty good." He shot right back.

He surveyed the landscape trying to locate any familiar points of reference but came up empty. She, on the other hand, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She stretched out a pointed finger and began to turn slowly in a circle. After a few steps she stopped and opened her eyes. He gave her a curious look, but was taken aback by the confidence in her eyes.

"We should go this way," she stated calmly and began walking with determination, barely giving him a glance. Not having a better idea at the moment as to which way they should go, he shrugged and started walking after her.

"Thank you Eddie," she said so softly he almost didn't hear it.

"You're welcome. But lets get somethin' straight once and for all. My name is Ward Masen so quit it with the damned Eddie business."

Of it's own accord, her hand slapped his cheek with a vicious sting, sending him staggering backwards. Never in his life had anyone ever struck him like that and never had he been more tempted to raise his hand to woman than at that moment.

The fury in his eyes was evident and for a short second she regretted her actions, but she'd tolerated his rude and debauched mouth long enough. Instinctively she shrunk back as he advanced on her, shaking his fist. But her steeled resolve kicked and she straightened back up staring him down. They were nearly nose-to-nose both huffing and puffing like a charging bull.

His mouth began working but not a single intelligent word came out. She narrowed her eyes and spoke with measured precision. "I may be crazy but I'm still a lady and I won't have that kind of talk anymore. And I know your momma raised you better than that." She turned on her heel and resumed her march into the desert.

He stood there dumbfounded and raked his hands through his hair threatening to pull it out by the handfuls from the effort it took to hold in his frustration. She continued to walk on in the direction she'd pointed. Closing his eyes, he blew out a breath and muttered a string of curses too quiet for a lady to hear. He quickly caught up with her and they walked side by side in silence for a time.

He'd tried to ignore the town folk, tried not to pay any mind to the stories he'd heard about her, but now his curiosity got the better of him. He just had to know.

"So why exactly do they call you 'Crazy Izzy', and just what do you think you know of my momma?"

**Mel: Hey Belly?**

**Bel: Yes Melly?**

**Mel: What do you think people will say?**

**Bel: I don't know, but I hope they leave lots of reviews so that we can send them a teaser for the next chapter.**

**Mel: Me too, reviews totally rock my world, almost as much as Westward does.**

**Bel: Oh, my, he is really hot! Come on, let's go check our emails and then go dream of Westward. **

**Mel & Bel: * Sigh ***


	2. The Death of Ed Cullen

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**Disclaimer: Twilight Characters are not ours, but we can dream right?**

* * *

**The Marksman**

**Chapter Two – The Death of Ed Cullen**

_Phoenix, Arizona, May, 1874_

Ed Cullen hated towns, especially up and comers like this one. Phoenix? That wasn't any kind of name for a town. He wasn't stupid. Ed had been educated back in Philadelphia before the war; he knew where the name came from. With a wry smile he had to admit that this town did look like it had just risen from the dust of the earth, but he couldn't see the symbolism of re-birth. It was just the same as any other old town, full of prospectors, con-men, gamblers, and thieves.

The name didn't matter though. It was a town, so it probably had a saloon, and that was what really mattered to him at this point; that and the fact that it lay along his current route to Carson City. It was as good a place as any to get a decent meal and a real bed for the night.

The streets were dusty and covered in horse manure, the buildings were slapped together faster than a Sunday sandwich, and the women looked as haggard as a three legged mule. It looked like the place had a respectable general store he thought as he passed a building with a sign proclaiming it to be 'Newton's Mercantile' on the left. Sure enough, thirty yards ahead on the right, the swinging doors of the 'Lucky Nugget Saloon' invited the saddle weary man inside. With the sun beating down and the day gettin' long, he needed somewhere to cool off and kick up his spurs.

That sweet refreshment he was so looking forward to curing his parched throat was just a few yards away, he thought as he walked his horse up to the post outside. He dismounted and checked his rifle scabbard out of habit before wrapping the reins around the post. He knocked his hat against his leg a few times to remove the dust of the road, then pulled off his neckerchief to mop his brow. He ran a hand through his hair, then replaced the hat and retied his kerchief.

Saloons were the same no matter the town, Ed thought as he entered the establishment and paused just inside the swinging doors. He surveyed the dimly lit interior with a practiced eye, sizing up the place before entering fully. Ed was nothing if not cautious. He had to be. Knowing what he was walking into was what had kept a man like Ed Cullen alive all these years. And he had noticed plenty of eyes checking over him this time 'round.

The Saloon wasn't exactly bustling on Monday afternoon, but still there were several patrons about. There were two fellas sitting at the third table on his left and three at the second table to the right. Two more were standing by the bar, along with a blond woman in a frilly red dress. All eyes turned to him as the clink of his spurs announced his presence, and it wasn't lost on Ed that most of the eyes went straight to his holster. He knew one look at that low-slung gun belt would tell anyone who cared what type of man was wearing it. He might as well have been carrying a wooden sign that read 'Gunslinger'.

The rather tall and slender bartender watched him as he moved to the bar, all the while wiping a glass with a spot-covered towel. He spoke up as soon as Ed stopped in front of him. "What's your poison, Stranger?" He asked with a gravely voice, not inviting, but not judging either. He was straight forward and Ed respected that in a man.

Removing his hat, placing it on the bar, and running his fingers through his hair, Ed took a breath and got ready to give his order. This was always the worst part in a new town. He gave him a dry look and replied, "Sasparilla."

"Sasparilla?" barked the barkeep in surprise. "Never heard of the stuff."

The coldness in the eyes that met his shut up any other comment the barkeep might have made. But it didn't silence the guffaw that came from the end of the bar.

"Why, Joe, Sasparilla is what they call sodie-pop." The speaker was not very tall but he looked scrappy and Ed was sure he had tried to start his share of fights; it was obvious to Ed this guy had something to prove. The little ones always did when they saw a gunslinger walk into the bar. He was making his way over as he spoke. Ed's eyes slowly left the bewildered Joe and moved to the approaching cowboy. "You know," he continued, "it's the drink of choice for Eastern city slickers and pansy-boys." The cowboy hooted with laughter and turned to glance at his friend and the girl. They were both still standing at the other end of the bar joining in the laughter.

Ed took a moment to sum up the loudmouth and noticed he was better dressed than the average cowboy; his clothes and boots weren't as dusty, his hat was expensive and sported a silver hatband. He also carried an obviously new side arm with a white, mother-of-pearl grip. He rested his hand on the butt of the gun and puffed out his chest. No, this wasn't your ordinary, working cowboy. He was entirely too clean with his baby-face and white-blond hair. This was some rich kid. Yes, _kid_! Ed could tell he was no more than eighteen or nineteen. Nowhere near to being a man, not in Ed's book. You had to experience life to become a man, and if this kid's soft hands were anything to go by, he hadn't experienced squat. Ed doubted that the gun had ever shot a bullet at anything other than a can.

No, there was no way this kid was a man. Had he been a man, he would have known better than to try and pick a fight with a man like Ed Cullen. He would have recognized the hard-as-steel look in the eyes now traveling over his face. The body language alone should have been enough to tell him you don't mess with this man. Instead, he walked up to a hardened gunslinger and insulted him. Phoenix had little to offer in the first place, and now it was just getting worse.

Stupid kid! Ed thought, as he looked at the boy standing in front of him. He was lucky Ed wasn't the type to fly off the handle. Ed was experienced enough to look over stupid remarks from some kid still wet behind the ears. So he just looked at him and said, "Can I help you, son?" the gravel in his voice adding credence to his image.

The low tone and cold eyes would have been enough for most people, but not for the loudmouth with something to prove, he supposed daddy's money wasn't enough. "Well, Stranger, we don't have any Sasparilla, but if you'd like, we might be able to rustle up some milk for you," he said slapping his knee, and proceeded to laugh even louder than before.

Ed just let him laugh, never changing his facial expression and keeping his eyes glued to the boy's face. Ed could sense the other patrons' tension, as they were men and understood that the boy was toying with a rattlesnake. There was complete silence save for the boy's laughter. When he finally quieted enough to notice, he was slightly taken aback to see the unchanged demeanor of his would-be victim. He coughed nervously as he took in the silence surrounding him. The atmosphere in the bar was thick enough to cut with a knife. It was obvious to the kid that this stranger didn't understand the power that money held in this town. And Ed could see that this boy had set himself on a path he was unwilling to veer off of.

The barkeep tried to lighten the moment a little and spoke up, "Mister, I think I may have some of that, what you say, Sasparilla, in the back. Just came in last week. I didn't recognize the name, but now that I think about it, I believe that was what it said on the crate. I'll go get you a bottle." He was nearly wheezing, as he had said his entire little speech without taking a breath.

"Much obliged," was Ed's low response as Joe hurried off to the back. His eyes had never left the boy and he now spoke to him directly, "That's okay son, looks like I won't be needing that milk after all."

The boy's friend seemed to have finally realized the danger of the situation and quickly tugged on the boy's sleeve and urged him, "Mike, let's go. He's not worth the time." He jerked his head in Ed's direction and Ed recognized that he was just trying to get his friend out of harms way and didn't take offense at the words. He'd rather just let the kid go and get on with his day in solitude.

Joe came out of the back carrying four brown, long-necked bottles. He placed one on the bar as he took in the scene before him. Mike looked over at him then down at the bottle, before looking back at Ed. He replied to his friend, "Yeah, let's get out of here. Nothing here but a washed-up gunslinger drinking sodie pop." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out with his friend.

Ed watched him go before turning back to the bartender with a little snort. The kid was too stupid to know there wasn't any such thing as a 'washed-up gunslinger'. Gunslingers never lived long enough to be washed up.

The murmured whispers broke the silence as the bar patrons discussed among themselves what they had just witnessed.

"Thanks, Mister," Joe whispered low, as he opened the bottle of Sasparilla. "He's just a damn fool kid that's had life way too easy."

"Yeah, I noticed that," was the low reply.

"You in town long?" Joe asked, his tone implying he really hoped it wasn't an extended length of time. Seemed like that was the song Ed heard everywhere he went. No one wanted him around very long.

Ed gave a wry smile before turning up the bottle and drinking half the contents. He was usually around just long enough to solve a few less than desirable problems for people and then moving on, but he had no job in this town and no need to stay. Lowering the bottle Ed replied, "Just the night. I need supplies and a real bed."

Joe's relief was evident. "Well, the Gold Star Hotel is just down the street. It has the best sleeping beds in town. You can get a bath there too, if you feel so inclined. And Newton's," he jerked his head sideways, indicating the direction, "should have any supplies you need."

Ed noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over at the blond woman as she sauntered up to him. She halted beside him, leaning sideways against the bar and bending forward slightly to give him a good look at her ample bosom.

"I couldn't help hearing you say you're in town for the night," she spoke in a contrived sultry tone. "I wouldn't mind some company, since you don't seem to have any plans." She gave Ed a come-hither look that was as cheap as her over-rouged face.

He looked at her and actually thought about her proposal for a moment before dismissing it. He didn't really care for saloon girls, not that he hadn't partaken of a few in his life. But he really preferred one that didn't look quite so used and he personally had a thing for brunettes. The less he associated with this hellishly hot town the better.

Now deep down, Ed Cullen was a gentleman, and even though she was a saloon girl, he still spoke to her with respect.

"Sorry, ma'am. I've been in a saddle for a lotta days, and I really just want a place to sleep tonight." She gave him a huff and turned away, walking over to one of the occupied tables.

Without a second glance in her direction, Ed turned back to face the bar and turned up the bottle, emptying its contents completely this time. He removed a coin from his pocket and tossed it onto the bar.

The barkeep nodded and then spoke up. "Don't believe I caught your name."

"Don't believe I dropped it. Much obliged for your help," and with those words, Ed smoothed back his hair, replaced his hat, turned and slowly walked back out into the afternoon sunshine.

And that was why Ed Cullen hated towns. There was always some wise-crackin' kid trying to make a name for himself by taking on a gunslinger. It happened every time, and it got old fast! If he had killed every danged idiot itchin' to get himself kilt that had tried to call him out, the west would have a serious shortage of overly pampered smart-aleck kids.

He grabbed the reins and walked his horse the short distance to the Gold Star. The horse was probably just as saddle weary as Ed at this point, ready for a relaxing night and a bag of oats. Outside the hotel he removed his saddlebags, duster, and rifle scabbard before turning to the livery boy waiting outside for would-be hotel guests.

"See to my horse, kid. Name's Cullen, Ed Cullen," he said as he tossed the reins to the waiting lad.

"That'll be four bits, mister. In advance." Ed had to grin at the authority in the tone coming from a boy that couldn't be more than eleven or twelve years old. He tossed the coin and the boy caught it with practiced ease. Ed's lips quirked as it struck him that the kid had quick hands. "And here," he tossed an additional five-cent piece at the boy. "That's so you'll take extra good care of him. He's a good horse."

The boy caught the coin with a big smile and said, "Sure enough, Mister Cullen," and headed off toward the livery stable next door leading the horse like the territorial Governor had just dropped him off.

It was short work getting a room, a bath, and a meal arranged. He was also pleased that the hotel had a woman that did laundry service. Within a few minutes he was trudging up the stairs to his second floor accommodations. He entered the room and gazed at the bed longingly. He really wanted a good night's sleep, but more than that, he wanted to wash the dust and grime from his body. He took a seat on the straight-backed chair in the corner and waited for the bath water to arrive.

Sure enough, within thirty minutes a zinc tub had been delivered to his room and was being filled with buckets of steaming water by a couple of hotel employees. As soon as the door closed behind them, Ed stripped off his clothes, noticing every scar and mark, telltale signs of some hard living. He put the clothes outside the door to be picked up for washing, and then slowly sank into the steaming water. He relished the heat, letting it ease the stiffness from his muscles. After a few minutes, he ducked his head beneath the water, shaking it slightly to loosen the dust from his hair. When he resurfaced, he reached for the cake of soap that had been left with the cotton cloths for drying.

He lathered up his hair and beard, washing his face and neck at the same time. After rinsing them, he proceeded to wash the grit and sweat from the rest of his body. Once he had washed, he relaxed until the water became chilled before rising and drying. The water was just about mud when he got out, but he felt like a new man. He fished out some clean underclothes from his saddlebags before falling onto the bed to await his meal. The sun was still shining, but Ed was exhausted, and was nearly asleep when he heard the soft knock and then the doorknob rattle. He was on his feet with his gun drawn and pointed at the door before it even began its inward swing.

The two hotel employees stopped dead in their tracks as they looked down the barrel of the Ed's Colt .45. One was holding a meal tray and Ed could hear the silverware rattling as the boy's hands started shaking. He slowly lowered the gun, moving his thumb to release the hammer, and lowered it to his side. He gave a jerk of his head to indicate they could enter, and they nervously stepped into the room.

The boy carefully placed the tray on top of the dresser, then he and the other fellow each grabbed a handle on the tub and swiftly dragged it out the door. Ed closed the door after them, turning the key to lock it.

The simple meal of stew, bread and coffee filled his belly and brought on the satisfied lethargy that comes after a decent meal. Ed took a look out the window surveying the town, then made sure the shutters were closed tight. He fell back on the bed, and let his eyes drift closed once again.

First light poured through the slats on the shutters and streamed across his face rousing him from as dreamless and restful a sleep as he had had in weeks. He stretched, swung his legs out of bed and his gun twirled lazily around his index finger. He took a moment to breathe in that clean smell of freshly washed clothes and tried to lock it in his mind; who knew when he would get it again? He quickly donned his pants and shirt and packed the clean underclothes in his saddlebags. He secured his gun belt and after raking his hands through his hair a couple of times and scratching all around his beard, he settled his hat on his head and made his way downstairs.

Ed enjoyed a quick breakfast of biscuits and ham in the hotel dining room, settled his bill and walked outside. The same boy from yesterday was waiting by the front door and gave him a broad grin.

"You want I should go fetch yer horse, Mr. Cullen?" the boy asked.

"Sure, kid, thanks." Ed watched as the boy ran down to the stable, returning in a few minutes leading his horse.

Ed took the reins and handed the kid another five-cent piece, and got a "Gee thanks, Mr. Cullen," in return

With a wave of his hand, Ed turned his horse in the direction of the general store. There was no one else there at such an early hour and Ed was grateful for that. He quickly had the girl gather all the supplies he needed. After purchasing enough to last him until he got to Carson City, he tied the packs across his mount. His foot was in the stirrup, when he heard the sniveling, pathetic voice.

"Well, if it ain't Sasparilla?" he heard the laugh as he slowly lowered his foot to the ground and turned to face the boy called Mike. He was standing on the boardwalk about fifteen feet away. This kid didn't know enough to quit while he was ahead. And a man was only able to take so much before he had to stand up for himself.

Ed just looked at him for a moment, then repeated his words from the previous day, "Can I help you, son?"

Mike gave another forced chuckle and said, "Well now, Sasparilla, I don't think you're man enough to help anyone with anything."

Ed just looked at the boy, holding back a snort. The boy didn't really look like he wanted to die today, so Ed just said, "You may be right about that, son." He turned his head and spit on the ground, then turned back to look straight into the eyes of the now snickering Mike Newton. "Come to think of it, I reckon there's probably nothin' would help you."

The boys laughter was instantly quelled and his hand made a motion toward his gun.

Ed never blinked and said in his low, calm voice, "Do you really feel like dying today, son?"

Ed watched the boy's throat work as he battled his fear and his anger, and seeing the instant that reason entered the boy's head.

"Why don't you just turn around and go back up to the saloon and think about what you almost did. Don't you know you don't dance with the devil if you can't afford the price?"

Ed's eyes never left him, even after the boy had broken eye contact and slowly backed away. Ed watched him as he walked up the boardwalk toward the saloon and saw him enter before turning back to his horse.

He heard pounding footsteps and saw the livery kid running in his direction. "Hey, Mr. Cullen," the boy called when he got within ear shot, "hold up a minute."

Ed waited patiently until the boy halted. "Mr. Cullen, why didn't you just shoot that dang fool Mike Newton? He had it comin'. I saw the whole thang. He walks around this town like he's something, when everyone knows his Daddy has all the money and he's just a pampered mama's boy."

Ed gave a little grunt and answered, "Well, kid, you don't just shoot a man for being a dang fool or a mama's boy. You gotta have a good reason to kill a man."

"It'd be a good enough reason to kill Mike Newton!" the boy retorted.

Ed laughed outright at the boy's righteous indignation. "It's never a good enough reason to kill anybody."

The kid backed away as Ed turned once more to mount his horse. That's when he heard it. A practiced gunslinger learns to know the sound of a six-shooter sliding out of a holster. There was no mistaking the rasping sound made by metal sliding against leather.

Without missing a beat, Ed pivoted his body, pulled his gun, and fired.

The gun of the would-be back-shooter discharged, but the hand holding it was already sinking to the ground. The bullet missed its mark by a mile.

But Ed Cullen never missed. Mike Newton was dead before he hit the ground, his baby blue eyes wide with shock as the pretty white pistol dropped from his hand.

Town's people began pouring out of the surrounding buildings, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Dozens of eyes looked first at the now dead boy lying face down in the dust and then at the gunslinger standing still as stone.

A woman screamed and Ed saw the saloon girl run toward the fallen boy, pulling at his body until it lay face up. Her wails added to the growing sounds of muted whispers and low-toned questions, of voices now raised in anger and shouts of simmering outrage.

It was a fair fight. Well, not really so fair if you looked at it from Ed Cullen's point of view. He was almost shot in the back! But he knew that wouldn't matter much in a town like this. He wished he had just passed right on by and eaten cactus till he reached Carson City.

The Town Sheriff pushed his way through the crowd to investigate the shots. He looked from the dead body of Mike Newton to Ed and made his mind up fast. He jerked his head at a couple of men and they cautiously approached the gunslinger, while a few more men in the crowd drew their weapons.

"Unbuckle that gun belt, nice and slow," the Sheriff hollered at Ed, "and throw it on the ground."

Ed just stood and looked at the Sheriff, standing still as death.

"You heard me, mister, I said drop your gun belt!" The Sheriff was nearly shouting, and Ed could hear the touch of fear in his voice.

Ed knew he could easily draw his gun and shoot the three men standing in front of him before they would ever know the gun had left his holster. He could also have taken out the two back-ups before they could fire a shot. But he also knew that the street was now crowded with women and looky-loos and an innocent person might get hurt.

Yeah, Ed was one of those rarities of the breed: A gunfighter with a conscience.

"But Sheriff," the kid called out, shouting to be heard over the noise of the crowd, "Mike Newton drew first, it was self-defense!" The kid watched as Ed slowly unbuckled his belt and got so mad he actually stamped his foot. "That blasted pansy boy tried to shoot him in the back!"

The Sheriff paid no attention to the boy. Ed spoke up quietly as he lowered his gun belt to the ground. "The kid's right. You can see he tried to fire his gun at me."

"Save it for the judge! He'll be through here Thursday next." The Sheriff and the men seized hold of Ed, pulling him along with them in the direction of the Jail.

The kid came along, half running to keep up. "But I tell you, Sheriff! He was defending his-self! I saw it!"

The Sheriff still ignored the kid, but Ed looked at the boy and mouthed the words, "Take care of my horse."

The boy nodded and was soon swallowed up by the crowd pressing in to follow the captive man down the street.

After he closed the jail door, the Sheriff spoke as he led the quiet gunslinger to a cell, "You better be glad I brought you here! That crowd could soon get lynching on its mind." The Sheriff's harsh tone felt like more like a threat than a warning.

With a laugh, the Sheriff locked the cell door and Ed watched him deposit the ring of keys in the left drawer of his desk.

There was nothing for Ed to do now but wait. That was something he was good at.

He caught snippets of conversation in the office as the day wore on. It seemed that Mike Newton was the only son of the town's richest man, Michael Newton; of course that whelp had to be a Junior. It also quickly became clear to Ed that Newton Sr. owned the Sheriff. And from the sound of the conversation, pretty much owned the Circuit Judge too! No fair trials would happen here.

Seemed like a lot of things in this town weren't fair dealings, but nothing west of the Mississippi was.

The Sheriff said the judge would be in town Thursday next; it was now Tuesday, so that meant he had nine days to spend in this jail until the judge came to town to collect his bribe and hand Ed over to the lynching mob.

The sun was riding low in the sky when the Sheriff brought in Ed's supper. Ed recognized the stew and bread from the hotel, so at least they planned to feed him.

He ate and listened to the sounds of the town settling down for the night.

The Sheriff left the office an hour before dark, and was replaced by a young man, about twenty-five or so, sporting a shiny new deputy's badge. Ed could tell he was none too happy to have to pull guard duty over night. As Ed was the only prisoner, he surmised he was the only reason a guard was needed.

Well, Ed thought, if the deputy was upset about guarding someone, then he'd be happy to walk out the front door and relieve him of the tedious task.

But, figuring that wouldn't happen Ed settled down on the bunk to get some shut-eye and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

Ed was a light sleeper; he had to be in his profession. It was long after dark when he heard the faint "psst" coming from beyond the barred window. He instinctively reached for his gun before remembering that it was hanging in his gun belt on a hook by the sheriffs desk.

He stood up slowly and quietly walked to the window to look out. "Pssst" came the sound again, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Ed could just make out the outline of a child: The kid!

"Hey, you wanna get outta there?" the kid whispered.

Ed just looked at the kid for a moment then nodded.

"Okay, give me a minute to get rid of the deputy."

And with those words, the kid disappeared around the corner of the building.

Ten minutes later, Ed heard a commotion outside seconds before the kid burst into the outer office, yelling to beat forty.

"Deputy! Come quick! There's a fire down by the livery!" He was gesturing and begging the deputy to follow him as he led the way out the door. The surprised deputy followed without question.

Thirty seconds later, the door opened again and the kid reappeared.

He walked over to the desk like he owned the place and rummaged through the drawers until he came up with the prized key ring. _God bless the overlooked scrappers in a town like this_ Ed thought.

There were only four cells, so it didn't take him long, only two tries, to find the right key. He opened the door and motioned for Ed to come out.

"A fire?" questioned Ed softly.

"Just a little one, in the shed behind the livery stable." He looked at Ed's quirked eyebrow and gave him a winning smile.

"Hold the door," he said, as he went to the bunk and bunched up the covers to look like someone was sleeping under them.

When he was finished he turned to Ed. "There, that'll buy you a little more time. And don't worry about the new tele-graph line." He kept talking as he went to the door and peeked his head out, looking both ways to check if the coast was clear. He motioned again for Ed to follow him. "I heard 'em talkin' 'bout how it wouldn't be finished for nigh on a month. You ortta be long gone by then."

Ed grabbed his gun belt from a hook on the wall and followed the boy. They held to the shadows, walking stealthily until they were on the edge of town. There, behind the last building, Ed's horse was saddled and ready to ride.

He looked back at the kid shaking his head a little. He sure was something.

"I don't know how to thank you, kid." I put my hand out to shake his skinny one.

"T'weren't nothin'," the kid said. "I did it gladly." He stared at Ed for a moment, before speaking again. "You're the fastest gun I ever saw! Ain't no way I was agonna let 'em hang ya! It was self-defense!"

Ed laughed at him a little, still amazed that a child his age could have just perpetrated a jail break!

He reached into his waist-pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. After mounting his horse, Ed tossed it to the boy. "Here, this is for your trouble."

"Shucks, Mr. Cullen, t'weren't no trouble, at all!" He looked down at the coin and grinned. "But I thank you anyways."

"And kid," Ed's voice was low, "Ed Cullen dies tonight, you understand?" The kid nodded.

"Good. You just keep that in mind. And if anybody ever asks, you never heard of me."

"I reckon," the boy answered, his voice filled with sadness. "I just hope, one day, I'm as fast with a gun as you are!"

"No, kid, you don't _ever_ want to be as fast as me. You don't want to live with worry as your only friend and trouble as your middle name."

"I reckon," the kid answered again, hanging his head.

The gunfighter pulled on the reins and turned his horse north. Looking back he said, "By the way, kid, what's your name?"

The kid looked up and gave him a wide smile and replied, "Billy, Billy Bonney. Don't forget!"

"Nice to meet you, Billy Bonney," and with tip of his hat and a swift kick to the horse's flank, the gunfighter disappeared into the darkness of the night.

.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bel: Hey, Melly?**

**Mel: Yes, Belly?**

**Bel: How did you like that little twist I put at the end? Were you surprised?**

**Mel: You mean the thing about Billy the Kid? That was genius...**

**Bel: It was good, wasn't it. Do you think our readers will appreciate our hot, sexy gunslinger enough to review?**

**Mel: I think so. Our reviewers are awesome like that. **

**Bel: Let's reward 'em again with another teaser, whatcha say?**

**Mel: Yeah, because who doesn't love a sexy Westward?**

**Bel and Mel: * sigh ***


	3. Crazy Izzy and the Injun

**We hope you all had a safe and fun Halloween. And now please enjoy another chapter. We LOVE hearing your thoughts and theories in your reviews, so don't be shy. We won't bite...**

**Again, please note the dateline....**

**Disclaimer: Twilight Characters are not ours, but we can dream right?**

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 3 – Crazy Izzy and the Injun**

_**Devil's Fork AZ, May 1875**_

The summer sun was blinding as it beat down on the little white clapboard cottage, nestled amongst the large Saguaro cacti and the Joshua trees. Close up you could see the white paint was blistered and peeling in places, the narrow path of pebbles and rocks leading up to the front door needed to be weeded and raked, but the house still maintained a quaint sense of coziness.

Isabella Swan carried a small basket to the line strung between the back door of the house and the post in the middle of the garden. Though garden was probably too strong of a word for the small accumulation of succulents and various other desert-hearty plants.

Her dark hair hung gently across her back and after lifting her face to the sky, she could feel there was no wind today and her wash would just hang on the line and get stiff. As she walked slowly to the line, her eyes shaded by the weathered Stetson she'd had since she was twelve, she felt a small pang of loneliness and all she could do was square up her shoulders and brush it off. The bright smile on her face was forced, but she was determined to get through today without incident.

_No need for hysterics,_ she thought, as she pulled a clothespin from the pocket of her apron and secured the corner of a large white sheet to the line. There wasn't near as much wash, or cookin' to do for that matter, since Charlie had died.

She hummed a high pitched, fast, little tune to keep herself company as she set to work emptying the basket of wet laundry. She saw the dust start kicking up in the distance before she heard the hoof beats ringing out against the parched earth. Jumping over the basket of wet laundry and tipping it over she ran to the house clutching a handful of her skirt to keep from tripping. Why had they come? Why, today of all days, did they have to come and spoil her morning?

Isabella ran to the closet and grabbed her daddy's rifle, checking the magazine to make sure it was loaded, before pulling down on the lever and sending a round into the chamber. This was no social call. All she had hoped for this morning was a boring Monday with out incident, and here she was getting all of Hell's demons come to call her out!

The yellowed sheer curtain fluttered slightly as the three horsemen rode up to the split-rail fence surrounding the front edge of the Swan property. It was clear that she knew they were here. Arrow wondered briefly if they'd receive as hospitable a greeting as their previous meeting.

Before they'd made it halfway up the gravel walk, the door flew back abruptly and the old screen door banged open, sorely testing the creaking hinges. A small but ferocious young woman wearing a Stetson and men's boots stepped onto the porch brandishing a rifle nearly as long as she was tall.

"Get off my land," she growled at the three riders. Her eyes spitting fire as she looked at each member of the trio aiming the end of her gun directly at their chests. The brothers slowly continued forward. They knew that together they were a menacing presence and they fully expected this undersized woman to back down.

Arrow was a wiry man with greasy black hair that he always wore loose, stuffed under a dark Stetson with a deep crease in the middle. Marcus took up position behind Arrow. He was larger than Arrow, but had the same long black hair that he kept tied back with a leather thong. And always trying to be the fashionable one, his hat of choice was a derby.

But they knew their real ace in the hole when intimidating anyone was Cassius. He was born during a thunderstorm and the midwife couldn't get there in time. As lightning split the tree out in front of the cabin, his mother died and their superstitious house servant from Mexico said he was cursed. Cassius aimed to take that curse to everyone else so they would all be as miserable as he was. He was an albino and bore the white blond hair, translucent white skin, and red eyes that came from his condition. He always wore a long duster and leather gloves to protect himself from the burning rays of the sun. His wide-brimmed hat was always pulled down low over his eyes. It was only if you were looking at him directly that you'd see the red color flashing when his eyes met yours.

"Now Miss Swan, is that any way to talk to yer pa's old friend?" Marcus and Cassius sidled up on either side of Arrow, their thumbs hooked lazily in their gun belts.

"You'uns were never friends to my Pa," Bella spat out, her eyes never leaving Arrow's. "Now git off of my land!" She waved the gun wildly, motioning for them to back off.

She was shaking, more from fury and the adrenaline rush than from fear. These three lowlifes, Arrow, Marcus, and Cassius Valentine, had been after her land since the last shovel of dirt was tossed on her daddy's grave. They'd been out here more than once to try and convince her to sell, but she wasn't having any of it. This was her home. She loved the land, she loved the fresh air, and she loved her Hualapai neighbors. Isabella had made a promise and she was stayin' put.

"Isabella, how are you gonna manage keeping this place up all by yerself? The fences are already startin' to break down, you got no income, you'll be out on yer ear before years end. We've made you a sound offer, now stop being s'dang stubborn and take it." Arrow's words, which started out in a condescending, patient tone, finished in scarcely veiled anger.

The men were fuming and Arrow was getting more and more irritated by Isabella's refusal to sell. Their window of opportunity was running out as fast as his patience, and they needed her and those filthy Injuns off this land yesterday.

She lowered the rifle a bit and narrowed her eyes on Arrow. "You don't have your hands in my purse and what's it to you if my fences are broke down?"

He scowled again at her inability to see reason. "Looky here Iz. We're just tryin' to be charitable like, lookin' after the best interests of a lone lady." His scowl turned into a sneer as he changed tactics and tried to intimidate her into changing her mind. "You'd be smart to take the offer. I'd feel awful sorrowful if something dreadful wuz to come upon you." Arrow inched his way a little closer to the house.

Isabella quickly leveled the rifle and aimed it directly at Arrow's heart and took a small step forward. "Now yer tresspassin'. I ain't takin' your deal. For the last time, Get. Off. My. Land."

"Isabella, is the violence really necessary?" Arrow crooned patronizingly.

She lifted her aim just slightly and fired the rifle, sending Arrow's hat flying off his head. He ducked and fell to the ground, spluttering in anger as foul language spilled from his lips, while his two brothers jumped away in surprise. Isabella pushed the lever down hard on the rifle loading another round into the chamber and firing again into the dirt near their feet.

Arrow scampered back on his hands, dragging his lower half in the dirt. Marcus and Cassius grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up. Arrow reached down and picked up his hat, examining the singed hole that had been torn through the felt by the bullet. "Tarnation!" shouted Arrow, "you _are_ crazy!"

She pumped the lever again and lifted it to Arrow's chest, "So they say. I ain't gonna miss again. I'm sure the sheriff's on his way too."

"You're makin' a big mistake." Arrow seethed as he dusted himself off and stalked to back to his horse.

"Well now, ain't it mine to make?!"

Arrow Valentine's dark face was etched into Isabella's mind as she watched the three men kick their horses into a gallop. The words of warning echoed in her mind sounding more like the threat they were intended to convey. The memory sent shivers down her spine as she remained rooted on the front porch of her home.

Finally, feeling the weight of the firearm in her grip, she lowered the rifle and swung it so the butt rested on the inside of the door frame, leaning the barrel against the door itself. Bella leaned her forehead against the door jamb and started humming again, high and fast. Sure enough a few minutes later, the sheriff came riding up to the same spot the Valentine's had just vacated.

"You alright, Iz? I heard the shots, and came out to check." The diminutive sheriff, Ben Cheney, had been deputy to her father, and on account of his honest and dependable nature, he was chosen by the townsfolk to step in for the late Charlie Swan. Though he wasn't large in stature, his voice and presence were oddly commanding.

"I'm good Ben, just the Valentines again, not leavin' when I told'em to, trespassing really."

"You let me know if they come 'round bothering you again."

Isabella nodded woodenly to the sheriff and smoothed the creases of her apron.

"Been thinkin' about'cha today. Went and paid my respects at the cemetery already."

"Thanks Ben, that means a lot."

With one last tip of his hat, Sheriff Cheney turned his horse and rode back towards town.

Isabella sighed and picked up the rifle, pushing open the door to her empty little house. It had been one year since her father died. Gunned down in cold blood is more like it though.

"_Have a good summer everyone! I'll see you back in September." She patted the heads of all the younger children as they filed out of the schoolhouse, the older ones she shook hands with. She made sure to scold the boys she knew were prone to trouble, though her teasing tone let them know she wasn't really cross with them, just that she cared._

_She hummed cheerfully as she wiped off the stack of slates left by the door. The last day of school was always bittersweet for Isabella. She'd miss the children, but was glad for a little break. She enjoyed teaching even if it did put her outside of the norm for the women of the town. She didn't mind; it gave her an excuse to read even more than she did as a girl. Though now at the ripe old age of twenty-four, she feared that spinsterhood was her future; all of the men shied away from her wit and intelligence. At least she'd always have her father and she knew she could take care of him and their home._

_She'd been filling that role since her mother died the year after they moved to Devil's Fork. It was a hard move for Renee; the journey from Philadelphia had been too taxing. She succumbed to a dreadful fever when Bella was just eight years old. Bella tried to shake off the memory of her mother's pain-racked body as she closed up the schoolhouse and walked slowly down the road towards the outskirts of town, to the little house she shared with her pa._

_The sun sat low in a pool of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The horizon was kissed with a colorful mixture that was so perfectly vivid against the plain canvas of the desert. She sighed as she looked at her father's untouched bowl of stew. He wasn't usually this late coming home. Her ears perked up at the soft clip-clop of a horse on the hard-packed lane that led to the house. She opened the front door, the warm greeting poised on her lips dying in her throat when she saw the slumped-over form of her father. He was listing dangerously to the side, almost falling out of the saddle. _

_She gathered her skirts and ran down the walk to her father's horse and just barely managed to break his fall as he tumbled out of the saddle. In the dim light of the fast-approaching twilight, she saw the blackish red bloom spread across his chest and fought to hold back the retch that threatened to escape._

"_Pa! What happened?" Her words were frantic and breathless as she took in his disheveled appearance._

"_Bells," he said rasping, his eyes fluttering closed as his hands grasped her sleeve. Panic swept over her and she shook his shoulders._

"_Who did this to you pa? Who?" Her voice rose as fear swept through her body. _

"_Don't sell. Promise." His voice was raw and raspy as he struggled to speak._

"_Promise what? The house? The Land?" she questioned, her fear quickly turning to sheer terror as she watched him fight for every breath. "What shouldn't I sell?" Her hands were moving restlessly over his face as tears ran unheeded down her face. "Oh, dear Lord, that doesn't matter now, please, Pa, tell me what happened!" The sobs shook through her body as she tried to hold him upright in her arms._

_Charlie Swan coughed and Bella cringed at the sound of the wet gurgling she could hear in his throat and the red that now coated his teeth. "Just promise."_

"_I promise pa, I won't sell the land." Her tears continued to fall as her hand cradled his face._

"_That's my good girl. Love you Bells." His eyes closed part way and he drew his last few shallow breaths in his daughters trembling arms. _

_The screams and wails attracted no one. They lived far enough away from town that no one could hear her voice. It wasn't until well after dawn that Jacob found her still sitting on the rocks of the walkway holding her father and rocking back and forth humming high and fast, the madness already having set in. When Charlie hadn't shown up for their planned fishing rendezvous, but his horse did, Billy, Jacob's father, had become worried and sent Jake to find out what was wrong._

_The days following were a blur for Isabella, but once the funeral was over, she wasn't the same anymore. There was a wildness to her now that was set into her bones and she didn't give snake spit what anyone thought of her. She desperately wanted to find her father's killer and see them hanged, but she had no means, no way to do it alone. All she could do was to honor Charlie's dying wish. She vowed that it would have to be over her dead body that the Swan ranch ever changed hands._

Isabella wiped her eyes, brushing away the ghosts living in each tear shed, and quickly packed a small picnic lunch. She traded the rifle for a fishing pole and walked out the back door. Passing through the rough terrain of her property on the familiar path she used to walk with her father, she tried to shake off the difficult memories. When they became particularly depressing, she found the quiet solitude of the fishing stream to be soothing. But today, the memories were especially intense. By the time she reached the bank of the small stream that ran across the southwestern corner of her land, she was shedding copious amounts of tears again.

The large hulking figure of her childhood friend, Jacob, sat hunched over a small pail full of worms, deftly threading a little wriggling creature onto his hook, despite the size of his hands. He looked up when he heard her approach, a frown immediately pulling on his features.

He knew what today meant for his friend. Charlie was his father's best friend after all. She slumped down near the bank of the small river as he rinsed of his hands. He stood tall, dressed in typical Hualapai fashion, buckskin breeches and no shirt—not when it was this hot out. With a careless wave, he shook his hands dry and silently put his arm around her shoulders. She didn't even notice the nakedness of his torso anymore.

"I miss him Jake," she whispered tremulously as she sat beside him.

"I know you do, little one." He kept his warm, comforting arm around her while they both stared across the stream to the Hualapai tribal lands. "The Elders made a special offering and prayer this morning for him."

Charlie had been one of just a few "pale faces" that Jacob's tribe trusted or had any dealings with. Isabella was the other one. Jacob had learned English from Bella and Charlie as they would fish and hunt and he tried to help Bella learn his language, but it was completely lost on her.

With a heavy sigh, she lifted up her hook and said, "Bait me?"

Jacob looked down and smiled, seeing a bit of her usual self shining through the mask of sadness. "You got it Dizzybell."

"Ugh, Jake, you know I hate that name." She lightly punched his shoulder and a look of disgust crossed her face as he chuckled and proceeded to impale a worm onto her hook.

Isabella never liked baiting the hook, mostly because it made her think that when she was eating the fish she caught, she was also eating the worms, but when the dirty work was done, they both cast their lines into the stream and began the work of fishing.

Silence between her and Jacob was never uncomfortable, it just was. They snacked on the bread and cheese she had brought, and as they waited, they talked softly about nothing important, then waited some more. Finally Jake caught a smallish fish, and tossed it into the holding bucket.

Isabella's line was still untouched. He got up and stretched tall, scratching at the back of his head where the queue of his long black ponytail was tied with a thick decorated piece of leather.

"Been out to the cave lately?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.

"No, not since that one part collapsed," she said with a shake of her head as she looked up at this towering form. "I need to get some more wood to shore up the sides, but I don't want to draw attention. If the Valentine's ever caught wind, they'd be after me harder than a runaway train."

Jake nodded his agreement. The Valentine brother's were ruthless in their quest for land. It wasn't exactly clear what they were after, but they'd managed to push every one of the Swan's neighbors off their homesteads and then turned around and bought it on the cheap from the bank. Isabella was the last holdout.

"Think I'm gonna try panning a little," Jake said as he dusted off his buckskin's and clapped his hands together.

She nodded her head and watched as he picked up the tin pan and walked a bit further downstream. Jake had pretty good luck panning for gold. But he had even better luck when she could direct him and that only happened when her senses were calm and she could focus her feelings. She tried to do that now, letting her mind clear and just sensing the energy of the world around her.

Isabella's looked in his direction and noted that Jake's face was pinched in a frustrated scowl. "No luck yet?" She called out.

"Nothin' worth spit," came his snarled reply. She closed her eyes and felt the familiar tingling move through her as she connected with the earth around her.

"Try moving twenty yards farther downstream."

Her line started to jerk and she moved quickly to pull in the struggling fish that was now thrashing on the surface of the water. She yanked her simple, straight pole up to set the hook and drew her line back in. Carefully, she removed the hook from the fish's mouth and dumped it into the waiting bucket to join Jake's fish from earlier.

She smiled knowingly when Jake began to whoop and holler. "Whoooo doggie. That's gotta be a good two ounces right there." Isabella laid her pole down and hopped up, walking along the stream bank to where Jacob was swishing the tin pan around in circles. He proudly held his hand out, displaying several gleaming chunks of gold.

Closing her eyes once more she cleared her mind and searched out with her senses, "Do one more pan Jacob." He nodded quietly and scooped up another shallow pan full of silt and rock from the streambed. Tipping and circling the pan yielded several more nuggets, drawing out another happy hoot from Jacob.

"We oughta get this to the bank and change it for cash; I hear they're paying close to twenty dollars an ounce."

Isabella mulled over his suggestion. She did need a few things from town, but the idea of everyone staring at 'crazy Izzy' just turned her stomach sour. Ever since she'd spent her grieving days with Jacob's tribe, all the townsfolk, save a scant few, treated her like she was daft. They'd taken away her teaching position and given it to that horrible Mallory girl, who couldn't spell chrysanthemum if her life depended on it.

Once Isabella had felt well enough to return to teaching, the mayor not-so-politely informed her that she was no longer welcome to teach the good Christian children of the town. That's when the whispering started, and was only aggravated when hints of her newly acquired talent began to spread.

Not one to be the center of attention, she stayed home more and more, much to the dismay of her true friends. Alice demanded a weekly visit, and if Bella was being honest with herself, she relished the time she spent with her good friend. Jasper was always cordial and asked about her wellbeing when she came into the bank to trade in her finds.

Emmett was good for a quick laugh, but she didn't spend much time in his establishment. The company that was inherently drawn to a saloon wasn't the most savory. His new lady friend was also a bit of a deterrent. Rosalita was an intimidating beauty from Spain, by way of Mexico. She was always dressed and made up like the queen of America was comin' to town. No one knew exactly what had brought her to Devil's Fork, but her prickly-pear exterior warded off any in-depth inquiries about her personal history.

Jacob had pulled on a worn shirt, tucked the pan and other supplies in the pack on his painted horse and the two friends walked quietly back toward Isabella's house. Jacob quickly saddled her gentle pony and the two trotted into town.

As expected, all eyes turned to the unlikely pair. "It's crazy Izzy and the Injun," one of Isabella's former students whispered to his mother. She buried the sadness she felt, packing it around the millions of broken pieces of her heart. Why people had to be so narrow minded and cruel, she would never understand.

Jacob offered her a hand when she dismounted, giving a reassuring squeeze. He once thought he might like to marry this pale faced girl, but the tribal elders, no matter how much they respected Charlie and Isabella, would never allow the union, fearing it would stir up too much hate. So he settled with being her friend and secret protector.

The clink of the bell over the door alerted Jasper that he was no longer alone. He turned to face the two that had just come in and a wide, friendly smile broke across his face. His unruly blond hair was held away from his eyes by a black visor and the fading afternoon sunlight caught briefly on the one gold tooth that dotted his otherwise perfect smile.

"Iz, Jacob, it's a pleasure," he spoke from behind the barred window separating him from the customers. "Been treasure hunting again?" Jasper was one of the few people that knew about the remarkable discovery of gold Isabella and Jacob had made on her property several months back.

Jacob loosened the strings on the small pouch he'd pulled from his shirt pocket, dumping the contents on to the counter in front of Jasper. His eyes widened as he took in the size of some of the nuggets. Clucking his tongue, Jasper let out a low whistle as he stepped away from the window to retrieve his brass scales. He placed all of the gold onto one side and placed the small weights on the other until the scales balanced and the indicator arrow rested in the middle.

"Four and a half ounces! That's quite a haul, little lady." His voice held a hint of admiration as he looked at her with smiling eyes.

"Half goes to Jake; you know that Jasper." Isabella never liked taking credit for using her gift to turn a profit. Jacob had tried to help her see that her little gift of insight, while drawing plenty of skepticism from the townsfolk, was the only thing keeping her alive and in ownership of her pa's land. She should be proud to have such a deep connection to the earth that it would give up its secrets to her. Jake was just the muscle, and even though she insisted he take half, he always had Jasper put half of his share back into Isabella's account.

Jasper began mumbling under his breath and his pen flew as he did some calculations before announcing the grand total. "Ninety three dollars and eighty six cents!" He declared. "Would you like some folding money right now?"

"I'll take fifteen, Jasper. I'm sure Alice will talk me into buying something from the shop."

He grinned at the mention of his sweetheart. "I'm right sure about that Miss Isabella. And for you Jake?" he turned an inquiring eye on the tall, dark-skinned man.

Jacob shook his head and waited while Jasper noted the new account balances in his ledger and counted out the bills that Isabella quickly tucked into the small drawstring purse dangling from her wrist.

"Thank you Jasper. Until next time." Isabella waved as she and Jacob exited the bank. She would have waited until later, but since she was here, she decided to pay her respects at the church cemetery. When she bent down and plucked the black-eyed Susan from next to the boardwalk, Jake quickly surmised where she was headed.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked gently as he watched her with sadness in his eyes.

"Only if you want." She whispered softly. He nodded and followed slowly behind her.

Devil's Fork had one small parsonage; it was the only place where God had a foothold in the town. Isabella walked quietly behind the small chapel and past the picketed gate into the cemetery, her steps measured and deliberate. She noticed the presence of several other flowers adorning the plot of ground where her father's body lay and felt pride in how loved her Father had been in this town.

**R.I.P**

**Charlie Swan**

**Jan 14 1828-**

**May 9 1874 **

The rounded, reddish-brown tombstone was still glaringly new compared to the other gravestones in the small enclosure. She knelt down and gently traced the carved words on the marker. She missed him, but he would've wanted her to keep on living and she felt ashamed at the shell her life had now become.

"I'm sorry Pa. I know I haven't done your memory justice. But that's all gonna change today. Miss you old man." She placed a kiss on the bright yellow flower petals and placed it at the foot of the tombstone. Standing up on shaky legs, she brushed one errant tear from her face and mentally resolved that something needed to change and if anyone had an idea about what exactly that was, it would be Alice Brandon.

She heard Jacob offering up a chant in his native tongue and backed away to let him have his own privacy. They parted ways in front of the dress shop. Jacob had responsibilities back at his village and he certainly didn't want anything to do with the conversation that was about to take place.

Before she'd even finished saying goodbye to Jacob, the door of the dress shop burst open and a tiny woman launched herself toward Isabella. Steadying the toppling pair, Jake shook his head and waved goodbye as the two women greeted each other.

"Iz, it has been too long! Why haven't you come to visit me?" The petite black haired bundle of energy crossed her arms and humphed while tapping rhythmically with the toe of her shoe.

"I'm here now aren't I Alice?" Isabella replied, too drained emotionally to put up any kind of fight with her friend.

"Yes, you're here and just in time too." Alice reached out and laced her arm through Bella's. "I have something special saved just for you." Bella sighed as she let Alice pull her into the store. "Are those men's boots?" Alice asked as she leaned down for a closer look and inspected every inch of Bella on the way back up, sighing in unmasked despair as she slid the Stetson from Bella's head.

"I hope it's practical because I've worn through my other work dress."

"Pshaw, of course it's not practical. Why would I pick something like that out for you?" Alice released her and walked into the back room, rummaged around a bit and came out holding a lovely blue dress, edged with delicate white lace and a long flowing skirt.

"Alice, this is too beautiful," she said as Alice thrust the dress into her hands. "I don't have anywhere to wear this that could possibly do it justice." Alice was looking at her expectantly, so with a small sigh, Bella turned and ducked behind a curtain-enclosed area where she slipped into the dark blue taffeta. When she stepped back into the main room Alice's face broke into a radiant smile and she began clapping excitedly. Alice handed over a delicate pair of lace up brown leather boots that came about mid-calf and were more ladylike.

"Oh my, Iz, it's perfect, just like I knew it would be. Absolutely perfect!" Isabella gazed at her reflection in the looking glass and a small smile managed to escape the corners of her mouth.

"As usual, you're right Alice. I'll take this one and the brown one over there," Isabella pointed to a drab, but sturdy everyday dress.

"Well, fine, but you should keep the blue one on for now." Alice moved to retrieve the brown dress while gesturing toward the blue dress.

"Why? I don't want it to get dirty on my ride home." Bella protested as she let her fingers caress the soft blue fabric.

"Oh for once, just let yourself feel pretty for no special reason at all. Just trust me; I have a feeling something good is going to happen today," Alice asserted with confident sincerity. Bella chuckled a bit at this declaration. It was the one she'd been waiting for since she made her decision in the cemetery to turn over a new leaf.

"What? What's so funny?" Alice asked, eying her friend quizzically when she heard her laugh..

"Just you and your predictions." Isabella replied, still smiling at the small woman.

"Well, I haven't been wrong yet have I? Plus I know your Daddy loves you and he's out there lookin' over you. This is going to be a good day, mark my word." Alice retorted, drawing herself up to her full five-foot nothing height and giving her head a quick nod.

"I suppose you're right." Bella had to agree with her. Alice had an uncanny ability to predict future events, it's like she was tapped into the mood of the future and just knew what it meant. "Alice, I've had a lovely afternoon, but I need to get to the general store," Bella stated as she gathered the brown-paper wrapped package containing the new brown dress and the dress she had arrived wearing. "I want to browse their books to see if they have anything new, and I'd rather not return home after dark."

"Of course you don't. I hope you've had a good day?" Alice squeezed her friend's hand letting her eyes meet Isabella's briefly making sure she was doing all right.

"I'm fine Alice, today has been a good day so far." Alice smiled at Isabella's reassuring words.

The two friends hugged briefly and bid each other farewell on the boardwalk outside the store entrance. Alice returned inside to unpack a shipment of fabric as Isabella crossed the wide, rutted, brown-dirt street to enter the general store. She made a beeline directly to the shelf that held a small collection of books and began running her fingers over the mostly familiar spines.

Bella's ear perked up a bit at the sound of gunfire in the street. It wasn't uncommon for disputes to be settled in such barbaric ways as pistol shootouts. She was nearly immune to the reports of guns reverberating loudly through town. She shook her head at how ridiculous it was to settle conflict through gun fighting, and then cringed at her own hypocrisy. She'd been ready to do nearly the same thing that very morning.

Returning to her perusal of books her wandering finger stopped abruptly. Seeing the new title sent a thrill of excitement through her being. Isabella's one guilty pleasure was immersing herself in the world of Jane Austen and she took every opportunity to do so. She paid Mr. Graham the cost of the book and buried her nose so deeply in the first pages that she never saw what hit her.

**Mel: Hey Belly.**

**Bel: Yeah Melly?**

**Mel: I don't think I'm ready for the coming 6 month sugar high my kids will be on with all the holiday candy... **

**Bel: Take it from me, it doesn't get any better when they become teenagers.**

**Mel: I suppose not huh. So did you know that Tapas at Twilight was nom'd at the Silent Tear awards? **

**Bel: Really? Congrats! Hey, all our wonderful readers, please go vote for TaT! Make Melly's day.**

**Mel: Thanks! The link is on my profile. It's the only T rated story in the "Best all Human" category! What about you? Got anything that needs voting for?**

**Bel: As a matter of fact, Bella the Lioness and A Twilight Star Trek are both nominated on The Sparkle Awards and on The Moonlight Awards. I'm just tickled pink!! Links are on my profile. **

**Mel: ****Awesome! So what do we think about Izzy?**

**Bel: ****Well, we now know how she got the name Crazy. I thought the back story about Charlie's murder was great. And I really liked the addition of Cassius being an albino. That was genius! And a little scary.**

**Mel: I agree. I can't wait to hear what our too-cool-for-words readers think. We need to write more chapters so we still have teasers to give... **

**Bel: ****Well, the next chapter is EPOV and it's finally finished. We should be able to give our readers are great teaser from that one!**

**Mel: Something they can dream about? **

**Bel: ****Oh, yes. Tall, sexy gunslinger...the stuff dreams are made of.**

**Mel & Bel: * Sigh ***

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

**Names and Pronunciations:**

**Cassius is pronounced: Cash-us**

**We mean no offence to any Native Americans by using the term "injun". This is a period piece, and at that time Arrow, being a greedy, insensitive jerk, would've used such language.**


	4. The Rise of Ward Masen

**Hello lovely readers! Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews. We read and appreciate them soooo much. Sorry this is coming out a little bit late, but we're experiencing a little bit of RL fail, so please be patient. We're also nearing the end of our saved up chapters, but we'll endeavor to keep up with regular postings. **

**For now, thanks to our beta, Sweetthunder, because she makes our chapters awesome. So now please enjoy Westward...**

**The Marksman**

**Chapter Four – The Rise of Ward Masen**

_(This chapter begins where chapter 2 ended)_

The darkness hid the plume of dust kicked up by his horse as Ed Cullen rode out of Phoenix. Ed Cullen! That name would soon be on every sheriff's wall and post office bulletin board west of the Mississippi. Ed took a moment to speculate what kind of price they'd put on his head. He snorted a little as he thought cynically that it would probably be as much as Mike Newton's father could put up.

The moon was casting enough of a hazy glow to see the road ahead so Ed rode through the night, finally slowing as the sun was rising above the horizon. He was deep in Apache territory before he pulled his horse up near some bluffs to sit out the hot part of the day. He was sure to lash his horse up well out of view and then move around some tumble weed so that he would be well hidden from the road. Ed didn't want to deal with any travelers, lawmen, or Indians. Not just yet anyhow.

Young Billy had done remarkably well in packing provisions; however, Ed had already bought most of what he needed before that darn fool Newton kid had decided to play quick-draw with the fastest gun in the territory. But Billy had the foresight to hang some extra canteens of water on his saddle. Ed thought about Billy for a minute, still amazed that the kid had succeeded in breaking him out of jail. He snickered a little when he thought about the look on the Sheriff's face when he came in the next morning and discovered an empty cell. He would be sure to remember Billy the kid, he might run into him again when he gets a might bit older. Never could tell when you'd cross paths with someone like that again.

Ed had more than a passing knowledge with this territory and before the sun had risen too far in the sky he had reached his destination. These old ruins had been here long before white men had settled the area, probably even before the Apache had moved in. The huge, stone structure nestled among the cliffs had been carved into the rock by an ancient people hundreds of years ago. Ed had discovered it on one of his trips through the area. It was near Beaver Creek, and provided the perfect place for him to hole up for a few days. While he wouldn't climb the rock face to reach the structure, it overlooked cliffs that would provide adequate shelter. The chances of a posse finding him here were slim to none. Ed could live with those odds. He would rest here for a few days and figure out a strategy for integrating himself back into society before he headed out for Flagstaff.

He tethered his horse by the creek before removing his bedroll, saddlebags, rifle and other items. Then he tugged off the saddle and saddle blanket carried them to a sheltered area under the cliffs. He spread out the bedroll and figured he'd get some shuteye. It sure did seem like a long time since he woke up in that hotel room in Phoenix. It felt more like a week than a day since he had slept in that soft feather bed. And it seemed even longer since that bath. He knocked the dust off his hat and settled it over his face to block the sunlight as he lowered his weary body down on the cool rock slab below the cliff.

When he left the shelter of the cliffs three days later, he left behind the persona of Ed Cullen and put on the mantle of a new identity. Using his razor, he shaved his face clean and cut his hair so that it was more of a floppy mess. He would have to switch out this horse as soon as possible, people in these parts recognized a horse better than a man. Then, using part of his first name and adopting his mother's maiden name, Ward Masen emerged and continued the journey to Flagstaff.

Ward spent the next few months moving from one mining town to the next, picking up card games with the local miners. Since he couldn't use his gun to make a living for a while, gambling was the next best thing. His first stop in Flagstaff was the stables where he traded his horse and made sure to tell the owner he was heading north east, towards Ohio and Canada, anything to put them on the wrong trail.

As much as he wanted things to be different, circumstances rarely allowed life to happen the way he would have preferred. Ward soon discovered that once your existence on this earth was defined by your prowess with a firearm, trouble just had a way of finding you. Trouble caught up to him about three months after he had fled from Phoenix, in a one-mine town called Crown King. Another darned fool with whiskey-inspired courage saw the low-slung gun strapped to his side and had called Ward out. Without even trying, Ward put him to the ground. It was a fair fight, but he had still been encouraged to leave town by the local Sheriff. Even though Ed Cullen had disappeared from public view, the reputation of Ward Masen was fast rising to take his place.

And rise it did. Ward traveled through the small, thrown-together towns of the gold-rush west, continuing to make his name and living as a gambler, but the reputation of being a quick draw continued to haunt him. Six weeks after the incident in Crown King, he faced another showdown in Jerome that ended the same way they always did, one man on the ground and Ward standing by his horse on the leaving side of town. A month after that, it was in Tombstone. As the New Year rolled around, Ward Masen had built quite a reputation in the Arizona territory.

By February and March, he was being contacted once again to 'take care of business' for a price. The purses were tempting, but this time, Ward wanted something different. Until he could find a way to clear his real name, he planned to make his living as a gambler. He was getting quite good at it, he found a little patience and lot less talkin' led a man to an easy win over drunken hotheads. He was beginning to like the lifestyle. He stayed in fairly decent hotels and could afford some of the better things in life, like real linen shirts shipped all the way from New York City. He hadn't indulged in such superfluous niceties since before he left for the war.

Early May, 1875, found him traveling through a little out-of-the way town called Devil's Fork. It lay on his route to Carson City, and he planned to be in town no more than two or three days, tops. Fate, as always, had other plans.

As was his habit when entering a new town, the first thing he looked for was a saloon. He was really looking forward to a Sasparilla, as he hadn't been able to find one in a while. The swinging doors of the Devil's Luck Saloon looked mighty inviting. After tethering his horse to the hitching post, he pushed open the doors and entered the establishment.

He took a moment to size up the patrons and pick a few marks. As it was early Friday evening, the place was pretty crowded and most of the tables were occupied. Ward surveyed the area with a practiced eye before making his way to the bar. The bartender was a big guy, easily four inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than Ward. He had dark hair that looked like it might have had the tendency to curl if it wasn't slicked down flat against his head with some kind of sweet-smelling hair tonic and parted in the middle. He sported a thick handlebar mustache that curled up on either side of the winning smile that he flashed in Ward's direction when he reached the bar edge.

"What'll it be, stranger?" the bartender asked, and Ward noticed he was wiping a glass with a surprisingly clean rag, the muscles of his arms flexing under the black garters that kept his sleeves out of the way. Maybe this place wasn't as bad as its name would have you think.

"Sasparilla," Ward let the word roll off his tongue slowly.

The bartender's eyes went wide at the word, and his brows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

"Sasparilla?" came his bewildered question.

"Sasparilla," Ward answered, again speaking the word slowly in that deep, gravelly voice that defined his persona. The less unnecessary explaining the better.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. I just wanted to make sure," the bartender said carefully. "As a matter of fact, I keep a good supply of Sasparilla in the back and a few bottles under the bar." He smiled again and Ward noticed the sincere friendliness on his face. "I also keep a fine supply of beer and good whiskey, none of that watered down stuff some saloons serve."

Sensing that the bartender wasn't trying to poke fun at his selection, Ward gave him a nod and replied, "If it's all the same to you I'll just have the Sasparilla. Whiskey tends to affect my concentration."

"What ever you say," was the barkeep's response and he proceeded to pull a bottle from under the bar, open it and pour the drink into a glass. He handed it to Ward with a flourish.

"By the way, the name's Emmett McCarty and I own the Devil's Luck," the bartender continued. He leaned in close on one elbow across the bar and with an intense yet friendly look asked, "You in town long, Mister…?"

"Masen, Ward Masen, and I figure a few days at most." Ward couldn't help liking the man; his voice and mannerisms just put a body at ease. Ward had come to trust his first instincts about people and he sensed that Emmett McCarty was an honest man.

Word got around fast when a stranger came into a small town like Devil's Fork, especially one like Ward Masen. Most people could tell he was different just by the clothes he wore. Ward was just finishing his drink when he heard the sound of spurs clinking on the boardwalk before the swinging doors pushed open. He turned his head to size up the newcomer and saw a man, tall, but still a couple inches shorter than Ward's six foot two inch height. He was broader through the shoulders than Ward and sported muscular arms and legs. His gait was slow and deliberate and Ward noticed that he wore his six-shooter strapped low on his leg in the tradition of someone comfortable with drawing the weapon.

The newcomer's hair was dark blond and long enough to brush the top of his collar and then some. Ward placed his age to be early to mid-twenties and could see that the younger man wasn't afraid to look him straight in the eye as he did some sizing up of his own. He halted at the bar, calling, "Em, how about a beer?"

Emmett McCarty smiled at him and called him by name as he drew the liquid from the keg. "Sure enough, James," he said and was soon sliding the full mug across the bar to him. He then topped off Ward's glass with a nod.

James took a swig from the full mug, wiping the foam off his lip before glancing once again at Ward. "You're new in town." It was an observation, so Ward didn't bother to answer, just inclined his head in James' direction.

James continued to scrutinize Ward, taking in his black boots and pants, fancy white shirt and black vest partially covered by a black jacket, stopping at the black hat that was perched low on Ward's head before moving back down to eye the gun strapped to Ward's thigh.

"You here long?" James asked, looking pointedly at Ward.

"A few days," Ward answered without elaboration.

James just nodded and took another long draw on his beer. He looked back at Ward, "You wanna join me and my buddies for a friendly game of poker?" He indicated with a nod of his head a table to the right where two cowboys were seated.

"I'm just passin' thru, not much for cards," Ward bluffed expertly.

"It don't matter here, just a friendly game." Ward glanced between James and the two men at the table before he responded with a tilt of his head to let James know to lead the way.

They reached the table and Ward automatically took the chair facing the door. It was a gunfighter's reaction. He never sat with his back to the door. Too many things could go wrong.

"By the way, I'm James Dunbar, and this is Rufus," the man identified as Rufus inclined his head, "and this is Hank." The other man nodded. "We work out on the Valle Verde spread for the Valentine brothers."

Ward had heard of the Valentine brothers by reputation, which wasn't good, and the Valle Verde ranch. His expression never changed but he knew the three were waiting for him to respond so he finally answered, "The name's Masen, Ward Masen."

Ward saw James' eyes widen a little and figured he might have recognized the name, but James didn't say anything either as he began to shuffle the cards. "Alright boys, the game's five card draw, Jacks or better to open." And with that he began to deal the cards.

The cards fell fast and the bets were made. After Ward won the first three hands, Rufus and Hank were beginning to squirm in their seats. Ward could sense that James was a seasoned player, because if he was concerned about Ward winning, he gave nothing away with his facial expressions. He could also tell that Hank and Rufus weren't the shiniest pennies in the till, however, they had money and as long as they wanted to play, Ward wasn't averse to relieving them of it.

James won the next hand, before Ward won two more. Rufus and Hank were fast running out of cash. Hank spoke up first, "What kinda chiseler are you? Ain't nobody that lucky!" He was staring at Ward through narrowed eyes. Without shifting his glare from Ward, he addressed his buddy, "Don't you agree, Rufus?'

Rufus wasn't quite as outspoken as his friend, but he seemed to gather strength from Hank's indignation. "Yeah, I do. This'uns a Flimflammer if I ever seen one."

Hank and Rufus both eyed Ward up and down, almost identical sneers twisting across their faces.

"Too right," answered Hank, pushing his chair back from the table. Rufus joined him. James, sensing that the two men were about to bite off more than they could chew, moved fast to alleviate the tension that was fast filling the room.

"Boys, boys, now don't blame the man for your lousy luck. I ain't never seen worse players than you, anyways, I'm losin', too." James eyed his two friends and motioned for them to sit back down. "Here," he tossed each of them a few dollars, "I'll spot you for the next hand."

Hank and Rufus warily took their seats again, each giving Ward their version of the 'evil eye' before pulling the money James had thrown down into their fast-dwindling piles. Even though James was younger than both men, they seemed to defer to his authority.  
Ward speculated that perhaps he was their boss at the ranch.

James passed the deck to Hank. "Here, Hank, just so you'll know, why don't you deal the next hand?"

Hank never said a word, just picked up the deck and slowly shuffled the cards then silently dealt the hands.

Ward nonchalantly looked at his cards then waited for James to either bet or check. James opened for a dollar. Ward called and raised two. Hank and Rufus both called and the game of luck and bluff commenced.

Cards were thrown down, discarded, and new ones dealt to take their place as the hand progressed. Ward, ever the soulless gunfighter, showed no emotion as he read his opponents' faces like open books.

The betting rounded the table and Ward knew he could easily raise the bet to a level that would effectively shut out his opponents, but that wasn't his way. He preferred to win the hand fair and square.

And that's what he did, laying down a full house, Queens over Tens..

As Ward moved to rake in his winnings, Hank and Rufus again rose to their feet, knocking their chairs over violently, and this time James couldn't control them. Ward knew they were seconds away from calling him out or drawing their guns right there in the saloon. Either way, they must have had a death wish, and James was smart enough to know it.

"Okay, boys, if it's a contest you want, lets keep this civilized, shall we?" James cajoled the two hired hands. "Mr. Masen, how about we try to even things out. Let's make a wager on your skills with that side-arm?"

Ward just looked at him for a long moment, sensing he was trying to keep his two dim-witted friends alive. "What did you have in mind?" came the slow drawl from the gunslinger.

"How about a friendly shoot out? I bet Emmett has some empty bottles we could use for targets." James was already rising to his feet.

Ward inclined his head and Hank and Rufus grumbled their agreement as James ambled over to the bar to have a word with Emmett. Within minutes the four men were making their way outside, James with his arms laden with empty whiskey bottles. Emmett, who had appointed himself as referee to make sure the contest was fair, joined them shortly.

The group made their way the couple hundred yards up the street to the livery stable at the end of town. James lined the bottles carefully along the top of the rail fence that bordered Devil's Creek, the now-trickling stream that gave the town its name. He paced off forty yards, putting them smack dab in the middle of Main Street, before turning to Ward.

"Does this look okay to you?" Ward just inclined his head and Emmett gave a silent nod as he folded his beefy arms across his chest to watch. James turned to Hank and Rufus. "You guys okay with this?" He got a grumbled okay from each of them.

A small crowd had begun to gather around the men, ranging from the merely curious to the blatant gawkers. Some simply wanted to see who could out-shoot whom, while others hoped matters would escalate into actual bloodshed.

James looked at Ward, silently indicating that he should go first, but Ward just gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head so James turned to Hank and Rufus.

"Which one of you boys wants to go first?" James said with a little smirk on his face.

Hank gave a snort and tugged on his waistcoat as he swaggered to the proposed shooting area.

"I'll take a crack at it," he said with a wink at Rufus.

"Okay then, turn your back to the target and on the count of three turn, draw, and shoot. Start with the first bottle on the left. Got it?" Hank nodded. "Okay, you ready?" James asked.

Hank turned around and nodded again.

James counted, "One… Two… THREE!"

Hank turned, drew his gun, and fired.

The bottles never moved. He missed the target by a mile but they did see the dirt jump about five feet in front of the fence.

Hank threw his arms up wildly, cursing his luck and the bottles and everything in between. Ward and James both discretely moved away from his swinging arms, out of any potential line of fire.

Rufus let out a loud guffaw at the embarrassed Hank.

"Dagnabbit! James, you hollered and got me rattled!" Hank yelled indignantly. "I git to go again."

James looked over at Ward who was trying hard to quell the amused grin that was lurking around his mouth. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders letting them know it was okay with him if Hank had another turn.

"Ok, Hank, let's try that again," James said in a deliberately calm voice. "Why don't you count for yourself this time?"

"I'll do that," Hank said with a satisfied nod and he turned his back once again to the targets.

The three men watched, Ward and James with barely concealed amusement, as Hank counted out loud.

"One… Two… THREE!" he yelled louder than James had done a few moments before and turned to fire at the bottles.

Again the bottles never moved. But a few splinters from one of the fence posts flew in the air.

Rufus again let out a bark of laughter and the beginning sounds of a snicker came from Emmett's direction before it was firmly quashed.

"Dagnabbit! Tarnation!" the quasi-curse words fell from Hank's lips as he stomped his foot in frustration and glared at James. "You got me s'rattled that first time, I'm still rattled!"

"Oh, yeah," James nodded his head in agreement, "I can see that, Hank." He placated the clearly upset Hank and threw a sideways glance at Ward and Emmett and saw amusement twist the gunslingers lips a moment before he turned his head to stare intently at the window of the newspaper office behind them. Ward had fast caught on to the fact that this wasn't so much a 'shooting contest' as a 'keep the natives happy contest'.

"Why don't we let Rufus have a shot while you….uh…" James searched for exactly the right words, "While you show him support."

"Yeah, Hank, you can s'port me," Rufus was nodding as he took his position in the spot now vacated by the still-muttering Hank.

"Alright, Rufus, you want me to count off or you want to do it for yourself?" James asked him politely.

"Ah, you count," Rufus said in a swaggering tone. "I don't get rattled as easy as some people." He threw a look in the direction of the now red-faced Hank who gave him a sneer in return. Well, so much for supporting a friend.

"Okay, aim for the first bottle on the left. You ready?" James asked as he concentrated on keeping his mirth from bubbling to the surface.

"I wuz born ready," Rufus answered as he turned his back on the targets with a determined look on his face.

James heard a choked coughing sound come from Ward's direction and another muffled snort from Emmett, before he started counting, "One… Two… THREE!"

Rufus turned, drew, and fired. And he actually hit a bottle.

The first one on the _right_.

Hank started hee-hawing and slapping his leg as he laughed relentlessly at Rufus' expense. Rufus jerked his head from Hank to James as the later hurried to cover for him, "Rufus, you've always got your right and left mixed up. You just did it again," James said with a little shake of his head. The crowd that had gathered around was laughing now and Rufus was a red as a beet.

He re-holstered his gun and grabbed onto the explanation with both hands. Shouting so everyone could hear his explanation, "Yeah, I have. Done it since I wuz a kid. Can't help it."

James grinned in Ward's direction and quirked an eyebrow in silent question to see if Ward wanted to go next.

Ward just inclined his head to indicate that James should shoot next.

"Well, there are five bottles left," James said with a grin in Ward's direction. "How many you want me to leave for you?"

Ward just smirked and drawled slowly, "Doesn't matter."

"Alrighty then, none it is," James smirked back as he took his position. He called to Hank, "Hank, count for me." The crowd hushed up now, and Ward took good note that the crowd knew better than him what James's skills were.

Hank began his count, "One… Two… THREE!"

James turned, drew and picked off the five bottles one by one, his left hand quickly slapping the hammer on his pistol after each shot.

Hank and Rufus let out whoops of victory as they had obviously chosen James to be their champion.

James flipped his gun back in the holster before he turned to Ward. "Well, it seems there're no more bottles. You want me to send to the saloon for more?" He asked as he looked in Emmett's direction.

"That won't be necessary," came Ward's low reply. Quite a crowd had gathered now, drawn by the sound of gunfire, and they had waited anxiously to see the man in black shoot. Murmurs and grumbling surrounded the four shooters.

"You're not gonna shoot?" James asked in a bewildered tone.

"I didn't say that," Ward replied through lips that barely moved. He was looking intently at the ground under the fence that was now liberally strewn with glass. He turned to the now gaping Hank and Rufus.

"Boys, I think I see the necks of those bottles lying on the ground." Rufus and Hank turned and squinted their eyes to see, then nodded in unison at Ward.

"Do you think you could go set those necks up on the fence?" Ward asked.

"You want to just shoot at the necks?" Hank asked in surprise, and gasps were heard from the crowd.

"That's the plan." Ward drawled as turned back to look at the fence.

When he didn't say anything else, Hank and Rufus beat a straight path to the fence and carefully sat the bottlenecks up, top down, along the top of the fence. When they were finished they scampered back to stand beside Ward.

"Do you really think you can pick off those bottlenecks?" Rufus asked, a touch of awe in his voice as he gazed at Ward.

Ward just gave him and Hank a crooked grin and stepped around them to take the shooter's position. "We'll see," he said in a soft, deep voice and then paced another twenty yards further away from the original position. The crowd parted and stepped aside like he was Moses in front of the Red sea.

Ward turned his back on the targets, cut a glance at James and Emmett, as he heard the low voices of men making side bets in the crowd. He gave them a few moments to conduct their business before he looked pointedly over his shoulder at Hank.

Hank, always a bit slow on the up-take, just stared back for nearly ten seconds before he finally realized with a start that Ward was waiting for him to count. He quickly gathered his composure and began.

"One… Two… THREE!"

In one fluid motion Ward turned, drew his gun, and fired six shots in rapid succession. A bottleneck exploded with each shot, until all six had disintegrated into tiny shards of glass now littering the ground. The entire episode had taken less than two seconds.

"Well, I'll be damned," Emmett's voice spoke above the rabble of the crowd and a huge grin split his face making the dimples appear prominently in his cheeks. He walked over to Ward with his hand outstretched.

"That was the best shootin' I've seen in many a day, Mr. Masen. When you've a mind to, drinks are on the house for you over at the Devil's Luck." He gave Ward a sly wink as he shook his hand and then slapped him jovially on the back.

"Much obliged, Emmett, and the name's Ward."

"Okay, Ward it is. I'll be seeing you later." And with those words, Emmett turned and moved toward the boardwalk, his big body cutting a path through the crowd as he made his way back to the saloon.

They watched him for a few moments before James turned to Ward with his hand reaching out too. Ward took it with a slight grin as James said with a raised eyebrow. "There's only a handful of men in the territory that's known to shoot like that and I don't believe the name Ward Masen is on that list."

Ward let the grin turn into a smirk as he replied, "I suppose not."

James let out a snort of laughter and said, "Well, it is now." He and Ward turned toward the boardwalk, their unspoken destination the saloon.

The crowd was dispersing as the side bets were settled and the people figured the show was over. A few still stood and stared at the fancy-dressed man with the fast gun, but none followed the two retreating men. Hank and Rufus had walked back over to the fence just to make sure they could believe their eyes.

"Hey, you said you would be in town for a few days?" James asked as they walked.

"That's right. I need a shave, a bath and a decent bed and I figure I can find those as good here as the next town."

James' eyes widened as Ward had just spoken more in one sentence than he had all day. He quickly collected himself and said, "Well, if you have time, I'd like to introduce you to the Valentine brothers, the men I work for down to the Valle Verde. I ain't been there long myself, but I know that they're always looking for someone with your _special talents_, if you catch my drift."

They were just passing by the general store and Ward momentarily turned his head to look at James as he began to answer. His mouth was open but his words were never spoken as he caught a flash of chestnut brown out of the corner of his eye a split second before his path was blocked. He caught another flash of blue fabric and lace and what he thought was the leather binding of a book before he collided with the small woman and sent her flying through the air. The next thing he registered was a loud gasp and the sound of splashing water.

**Bel: Hey Melly?**

**Mel: Yes Belly?**

**Bel: Real life sometimes sucks doesn't it?**

**Mel: It really does. I hope you're hanging in there.**

**Bel: Yeah, I am. I'm just happy I can still see. Retinal detachments are nothing to fool with. On a brighter note, Westward was really smokin' in this chapter.**

**Mel: Don't you mean smokin' hot?**

**Bel: I'll say! And James isn't far behind. I do love a sexy man that can handle a gun!**

**Mel: So how do you think Izzy's going to react next chapter?**

**Bel: The term "mad as a wet hen" comes to mind.**

**Mel: Wonder if there's any way we can get Ward wet?**

**Bel: Ummm that idea has definite possibilities...**

**Mel: Maybe we can dream about it.**

**Bel: Wet, wild, Westward...**

**Mel & Bel: * Sigh ***

**If you would like a teaser, let us know in your review.**


	5. Mad As a Wet Hen

**Hello patient readers! Thank you all for the reviews, we've loved them all. Just a few bits of business and then on to the chapter. This chapter has gone through some major renovations so we'd love to hear what you think!**

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The Marksman

Chapter 5 – Mad As a Wet Hen

_Devil's Fork AZ, May 1875_

Before Isabella had even noticed the masculine brick wall that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the boardwalk, she felt herself falling backward. She threw her arms out, flailing about as she realized she had little hope of saving herself, bracing for the connection with the ground. Instead of the hard, dry dirt that made up the main street through town, she felt instead the tepid, stagnant water of the horse trough as she plunged into it.

Panic set in as she thrashed around, twisting her body as she tried to sit up. Breaking the surface of the water spluttering and gasping, Isabella was greeted by a large set of crooked teeth and the hairy nostrils of a brown horse. The next thing that registered in her mind was the roar of laughter surrounding her.

Embarrassment and rage flooded her cheeks and turned her face redder than a raw steak as she struggled to right herself and climb out of the trough. She was suddenly thankful that her long, now thoroughly sodden, hair was partially covering her face and therefore hiding most of her mortification from the laughing onlookers. Her legs were still dangling awkwardly over the tall wooden sides, and it didn't help one bit that blasts of disgusting, warm horse breath were being snuffed in her face.

Shaking her hair from one eye, Isabella took in the scene around her and it was apparent there had been some kind of confrontation, though the spectacle of seeing a woman drowning in the water trough quickly became the entertainment of choice. She hated being the center of attention, but it seemed to happen so often nowadays. Her defenses were up and she was ready to pound anyone that came near.

She felt a pair of strong hands reach under her arms and hoist her bodily out of the water. With her hair again streaming in her eyes, she failed to see who had lifted her from her predicament. She ignored the chivalry because she was mad and began twisting and screaming, fighting unsuccessfully to extricate herself from the strong steadying hands that gripped her underarms and held her effortlessly with her feet dangling inches above the ground. "Unhand me! Lemme go!"

"Settle down Iz, he's just helping you out," the low rumbling voice of her friend Emmett chided from behind her. She calmed down momentarily and felt herself being lowered until her feet touched the hard earth of the street below. Isabella wobbled; still somewhat unsteady from not being used to the new boots Alice had forced her into. And though her new boots hadn't been submerged in the trough, they were now getting a thorough drenching from the stale water streaming down her legs.

Her new dress was completely soaked and the thin taffeta clung to her body like a second skin. Ward couldn't help but appreciate the curve of the little lady's hips and the narrowing of her waist as he set her on her feet. His eyes roamed up lingering a moment longer than necessary on the pertness of her chest, the clinging sodden fabric making the outline of her breasts hard to miss. Ward's inner voice groaned as he looked her up and down surreptitiously. It had been too long since he'd last been in the company of a woman. He couldn't really see her face, as it was covered in wet hair, but he could see that she was fightin' mad and ready to pop. She was so tiny it was almost cute.

Isabella was agitated and quite conscious of her state of exposure and wrapped her arms around her torso protectively. Ward sighed quietly as the sight of her perfect chest was now obscured from his view. Shaking the dripping strands of hair from her eyes, Isabella scanned the crowd looking for the one deserving of her wrath and the sermon she was about to preach against idiots who push ladies into watering troughs. There were only two other people within the circle of activity besides her and Emmett. One was James Dunbar, a man about her age who worked for the Valentines. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. He had been after her in one way or another since he had come to town; it'd be just like him to push her into a watering trough.

The other was a stranger, the one who had lifted her from the trough. She could still feel the imprint of his strong hands under her arms and the brush of his thumbs against the sides of her breasts as he had lifted her with ease. She didn't think he'd ever been to Devil's fork before. She was sure she would have remembered him. He had the smoldering good looks and tall, lean body that were impossible to forget. But Isabella couldn't help but feel there was something familiar about him. His face was partially covered in the shadow of his black hat so it was hard to accurately make out his features, but the way his hand rested comfortably on his pistol grip made it clear he was a man of action. But right now Isabella was too riled up to care about how handsome he was or how good he was with that sidearm he was carrying. She wanted to find the culprit responsible for her current state of affairs.

James, who was well aware of the crazy that was about to be unleashed, was holding his hands up in a silent declaration of innocence as if to say '_it wasn't me'. _She whirled in a circle feeling like a mouse trapped in a corner. "What are y'all staring at?" She hollered, trying to look menacing, but when you've got horse snot on your cheek and in your hair, it's quite hard for anyone to take you seriously.

Emmett caught Isabella's glance and motioned to his cheek with a brushing action. She raised her fingers, touching the mucous and screeched in horror. "Uuugghhhh, why?! Today of all days why?" The crowd of onlookers once again erupted into derisive laughter. "Why don'ch'all just go on home? There ain't nothin' to see here." She waved her arms wildly trying to shoo the onlookers away.

Isabella spun around the still chuckling crowd and asked, "Who pushed me in?" As if it was orchestrated, all eyes shifted to the man in the center of the circle. She turned her glare to the stranger, eyes narrowed, lips set in a severe line. "YOU!" She walked right up to the handsome stranger and wiped the horse snot from her cheek on the front of his fancy coat and looked up at him with blazing fury in her eyes. She even stamped her foot. "I'll have you know this dress is brand new. Why don'tcha watch where you're going?"

Ward had met his fair share of people along his travels, and he thoroughly appreciated the beauty and shapeliness of the woman before him, but then she had to go and open her mouth, speak, and ruin the entire image. Worse still, she had sullied his favorite coat. He'd never met a woman so quick to fly into a rage at a complete stranger. Though he was rougher around the edges than when he left Philadelphia, he was still a gentleman at heart, and it bristled him to be subjected to this woman's hypocrisy.

"I could ask you the same thing, little lady. I don't know where you got your manners, but it ain't right to go accusing a man of a crime that you're guilty of yourself," he responded with an edge to his civility.

"Arrgh! Don't you dare try and turn this around on me! I'm the one standing here soaking wet."

James then stepped back into the middle of the circle and walked slowly toward Isabella. "Come on down to Miss Vicky's and I'd be happy to help you out of them wet clothes there IzzyB." His voice was thick with want and innuendo making Isabella sick to her stomach. She was about to answer with a slap to his face, but he was already on the ground with blood pouring from his nose.

Ward shook out his fist, towering over the cowering James. "Don't you ever talk to another lady like that again," he growled.

James started chuckling as he adjusted his nose with a sickening crunch and wiped the blood with the back of his hand, smearing it over his cheek. "She ain't no lady; it's just Crazy Izzy."

"I warned you once cuz," he adjusted his gun belt just enough to catch James' eye, and from his position on the ground, he was smart enough to get the point. "Now, I suggest you apologize to the lady." Had it been possible, the look Ward gave to James would've turned him to dust. James nodded sheepishly and pulled himself upright.

He turned in Isabella's direction, opened his mouth to apologize, only to have his words cut off smartly. "Don't bother with the forced apology, James Dunbar! I don't need it!"

Isabella had momentarily been struck dumb by the stranger's unusual display of chivalry, but had quickly regained her senses and cut James off before he could speak. She wouldn't show it, but having the stranger defend her honor had struck a cord deep inside her. No one but her father had ever taken up for her like that before. She was touched by the gesture until she felt the squishy, wet book in her hand. She'd been so excited about reading it and now it too was soaked to the spine and ruined for good.

As she turned once more to look at the stranger, she saw that his face was still hidden in shadows underneath his hat and that put her at a distinct disadvantage. She was keen to other's facial expressions and could usually read a person pretty well. She was still confused by the feelings of gratitude and frustration that swirled around in her head, not to mention the way her heart skipped a few beats every time she looked at him. She certainly didn't want any more attention and the need to flee was swiftly winning out over any other feelings she was having.

She tried bending over to see under his hat brim, wanting to see his face. At the same time she had to keep her arms crossed in front of her to preserve her modesty. The awkward position only succeeded in causing her to stumble and she would have tumbled right into him if his hand hadn't shot out to catch her arm and steady her. The sudden pressure sent a tingling feeling up her arm and it took her a moment to find her voice.

"You ruined my book," she said, hating the slight quiver in her voice. He pushed his hat back a little and suddenly his eyes were piercing into hers. The gaze of those clear green eyes caused her stomach to flutter and that, in turn, caused the blood to rush to her cheeks yet again. The feeling of embarrassment quickly turned to confusion and anger, and suddenly she was madder than a rattlesnake. She tossed the book at his feet, shrugged her arm out of his grasp and trudged off in the direction of Emmett, who easily cleared a path out of the circle of Nosy Nellies that had surrounded them.

Isabella walked with as much dignity as she could muster, given her current circumstances, to where her horse was still tied up, passing Alice's shop along the way. As she stomped along the boardwalk, she didn't even pause in front of the opened door of the dress shop but shouted inside, "Worst day ever Alice! Put that one on your list of bad predictions."

Alice raced to the door and managed to catch a glimpse of her friend as she was galloping down the street. She couldn't understand what had happened. She'd had such a good feeling about today for Isabella. Shaking her head she turned and glanced in the direction of the saloon. Emmett had just reached the swinging batwing doors when he caught sight of Alice. He shrugged his shoulders, completely bewildered at the exchange he'd just witnessed first hand, before turning back into the bar. She resolved to pay her friend a visit and try to make amends for her apparently false prediction.

Ward bent down and picked up the book that Izzy had cast at his feet. He brushed off some of the dirt that had caked on the dampened cover and glanced at the title. His first thought was that it figured just about right that she'd be reading some fanciful classic full of girly romance, but she'd seemed awful disappointed that it had gotten wet. And Ward wasn't one to go around destroying other's property. The slight tremble in her voice before she threw the book down hadn't escaped him either and he had an almost irresistible urge to comfort her.

Ward didn't know what it was about the woman, but the minute he had seen her fight her way to the surface of the water in that trough, he had the uncontrollable need to help her. He couldn't even remember jumping from the boardwalk to the street in his haste to rescue her. He hated to admit it, but his thumbs still itched from the feel of her full curves when he lifted her up. He caught himself about to rub his hands against his pant leg to dispel the feeling, and then decided that he didn't want to forget.

She didn't even glance his way as she tore out of town at a full gallop, leaving Ward in her dust, reeling with all the events that had just occurred. _Women_, he thought ruefully, especially those who managed to still be beautiful even soaking wet and spittin' mad, were hard to understand. He shook his head a little as he walked back into the saloon to finish his drink.

"So 'keep, what's the story with her?" Ward jerked his thumb toward the street, indicating the one he'd just watched high tail it out of town and that everybody called Crazy Izzy. His mouth twisted as he thought of the disparaging name. Ward just could not abide being disrespectful of women. It went against his upbringing.

"Aw, she's alright, just had a rough go of things this past year." Emmett looked genuinely concerned about the woman and Ward felt his initial assessment of the man had been correct.

"Sheee's crrrranzy." James had his swollen, purple, nose plugged up with cotton rags to soak up the blood. He slunk in to stand at the bar and his mumbled declaration unlocked an undefined emotion within Ward. He wondered for a moment what it would take to get this guy to learn some respect for women. Apparently a broken nose wasn't enough to do the trick! With an air of annoyance, Ward turned in his direction. At the same moment, a flurry of white--a hand towel-- flashed and snapped on the side of James head.

"Ouch!" James grabbed at his neck and rubbed the fast blooming welt.

"James, shut yer yapper. You don't know spit about what yer sayin'." Emmett growled, tucking the towel back into his apron.

"Tell the truth Emmen. You saw 'ow differen' she wad when she came back." James' nasally voice, made so by his newly broken nose, grated on Ward's nerves. Though it was his own fault for punching James in the nose to begin with, the sound still bothered him. Then something James said caught his attention.

"Back from where?" Ward was most definitely curious about this woman that had garnered such negative attention from the townsfolk and who had sparked such an unfamiliar feeling deep inside him. There was something about her that drew him in, made him feel protective of her somehow.

"From the Injuns. They put some kind of magic curse on her or somethin'."

Emmett's hand slapped down with a loud bang on the counter, "ENOUGH James! It's not your business to say, especially when you ain't got yer facts straight."

James shrunk down low to the bar and said, "Well, Em, you know that's what people say about her."

"Well, people're stupid and I don't wanna hear you repeatin' that stuff. Not around me!" Emmett told him sternly then he looked over at Ward. "You want another?"

Ward glanced down at his nearly empty glass of sasparilla and shook his head no. "Could you point me in the direction of the Smithy? My horse threw a shoe just outside of town."

"Rosalita's the one you want to see. She's down to the south, east of Main Street. Tell her I sent'cha and she'll take good care of ya."

"Much obliged Emmett." Ward tossed back the last swallow of his drink, tipped his hat and walked out of the bar, spurs jingling. Much to his dismay, James followed him out and trailed after him like a lost puppy. "Cuz, ain't you got anyplace better to be?" Ward was used to these types always following him around, but he was still more than a little mad at James.

"Naw, I figured I'd offer my services as guide. Just 'til you get the lay o' the land, that is."

"I'm sure I can figure my way around without your help."

"S'no trouble a'tall."

Ward realized giving him a broken nose hadn't dissuaded James from volunteering to be his personal guide so he stopped wasting his breath. He untied his horse and began leading him down Main Street. James followed behind with his hands shoved in his pockets. Still exasperated at being unable to shake his newest admirer, Ward growled at the young man, "Just stay outta my way!"

James nodded, but didn't have the sense to keep his mouth shut, and spoke up, "I guess I shouldn' a said anyfing to Crazy…" he broke off as Ward cut him a warning look, then continued with more caution. "To _Izzy_. But I was just repeatin' what all the other folk say about her."

Ward didn't say anything but the tight set of his mouth and the hardness of his clenched jaw were enough to make James keep his mouth shut the rest of the way to Rosalita's.

As they approached the Blacksmith's shop, the resounding crack of a whip and sharp clinking of glass shattering could be heard over any other sound. Ward tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the shop and followed James to the back of the building.

A tall woman with billowy blond hair stood with her back to the two men. She wore a long, ruffled black skirt and a white blouse that hung dangerously on the edges of her shoulders. Her waist was cinched with a bright red corset that augmented her ample curves and narrowed her middle so much that Ward was sure he could encircle it with his two hands. She circled the long, braided leather whip around her head and snapped it forward with stunning precision, breaking the last bottle that had been sitting on the fence.

James let out a pitiful whimper at the sound, causing the woman to turn around. Though her hair was blond her eyebrows were much darker, matching the rest of her Mediterranean features. Her lips curled into a dangerous blood-red smile as she slowly coiled her whip and came toward the two men.

"_Mi Querido_," she said with a heavy Spanish accent, "are you here for another love bite?" She stroked the end of her whip seductively along James' cheek, eliciting another whimper. "_Quién es esto diablo muy guapo? _Who are you stranger?" She looked over James' shoulder directly at Ward.

"The name's Ward Masen, I just got into town. My horse threw a shoe. Emmett said you were the lady for the job." Ward cleared his throat of the slight tremor this woman had caused by her boldness, and stood up straighter hooking his thumbs into his belt.

"Welcome to Devil's Fork Ward Masen, I am Rosalita, and Emmett is right. I will have your horse ready tomorrow morning." She drew her long, pointed fingernail down the center of Ward's chest all the way to his belt, where he forcefully grabbed her wrist.

"Only thing I'm needin' is the horseshoe," he hissed, adding respectfully, "ma'am."

"Very well." She looked down at his waist where he still had her wrist in a tight grip and took note of his gun belt. "I also do ammunition if you need anything special. _Hasta mañana._" She inclined her head as Ward released her wrist and tipped his hat to her. He heard James yelp as she planted a firm smack on his backside. Ward chuckled to himself as he gathered his rifle and saddlebags from his horse and took off in search of the town hotel.

Devil's Fork was proving to be a very interesting little town to stop over in.

Arrow and Cassius were bent over the table poring over maps and land deeds. The window of opportunity to begin construction was closing quickly. This railroad would open the area to the transport and trade of goods, and it would all funnel right through Devil's Fork. The Valentines currently owned nearly half the town, including almost all of the land surrounding the town; all but one parcel.

The other investors were getting antsy and threatening to pull their funds from the project if it didn't get started with in the next six weeks.

Cassius slammed his hand down on the table and flung the stack of maps and papers to the floor. "Why can't we just do this _MY_ way, Arrow? Why all the pretenses and chicanery? Why not just go in there and shoot her like you did her father?" His voice was cold and rang darkly through the large ranch house, reverberating off the ruddy Saltillo tiles.

"You know why Cassius," grumbled Marcus in a disinterested voice from his seat next to the fire.

"Ah brother, you can't deprive me of my fun. It has been so exciting to play this game of cat and mouse with such a spitfire." Arrow certainly enjoyed the show he was putting on, always a sucker for dramatics.

"What I am the most interested in is how she's affording to pay the note on the land. She should've been underwater within months of Swan's death," hissed Cassius.

"You reckon Charlie squirreled away enough money for her to pay the bank off?" Arrow countered.

Marcus sat idly ignoring his brothers almost entirely. _Almost._ "It wouldn't be a surprise knowing how much he loved her," he interjected.

"Well, that would be a right pickle then wouldn't it. She needs to disappear, it's as simple as that. And when she does, it can't have any trace of us. She's already thrown around enough suspicion about her father's death." Arrow ran his hand down his face trying to rub away the frustration that Isabella Swan was causing him. "I need some target practice, come on brothers."

The three men walked on to the large covered porch, Arrow picking up his bow and quiver. Cassius chuckled at his brother's need to perfect his technique with such a primitive weapon. Guns were so much more powerful and accurate. Arrow argued that to hit one's intended target with an arrow was the most graceful way one could eliminate their opponent.

Marcus slumped listlessly into one of the chairs on the deck and pulled his hat over his eyes, guns, arrows, he didn't care. He was the least interested in Arrow's games and intrigue. The only reason he stayed was out of loyalty and respect to their dead father, Liam Valentine. On his deathbed, he made all three brothers swear a solemn oath that they'd stick together no matter what. That 'no matter what', was starting to grate on his last nerve. Arrow knew that still waters ran deep and he was noticing that Marcus was getting more and more withdrawn.

When his wife, Dotty, succumbed to the consumption, Marcus was ready to follow her into the next life, but Arrow threw their father's words back in his grief-stricken face. Since then, Marcus had played his part in all of Arrow's land-grabbing schemes and power plays, if only in body. This move against the Swan girl was no different.

"Come on and take a shot Marcus; stop withering in self-pity already." Cassius was holding out a rifle to Marcus.

He reluctantly got up from his chair and took aim at the cans perched on the rail of the fence. With one eye squinted shut he fired the gun sending the first can flying. Pulling the slide bolt and loading another round into the chamber, he fired off another shot and grunted in satisfaction as the second can pinged and jumped into the air. Without another word he pushed the rifle back into Cassius' hands and stalked back into the ranch house.

Cassius shouldered the weapon and quickly dispatched the remaining cans and smiled grimly at the carnage of twisted and punctured metal strewn behind the fence. He retreated back under the shade of the covered porch as the remaining brother drew a pointed arrow from his quiver. He rested the shaft on his index finger and placed the feathered end on the gut string. With the tip of the drawn arrow by the side of his check he sighted the bullseye painted on the leather skin pulled taut over a bail of hay and took in a short breath.

With a gleam in his eye he winked at Cassius and let the arrow fly. It whizzed though the air and pierced the center of the target with a dull thud.

"Ain't lost yer touch Arrow, but can ye do it again?"

"You doubtin' me Cash?"

"I'll wager fifty, you miss the next."

"You're on."

Arrow lined himself up with the target and placed another projectile against the string of the bow. With the same measure of concentration and calm, he pulled the string back, pinching the end of the arrow. The split second before it's release, Rufus and Hank came barreling around the house flailing their arms and shouting.

"Boss! Boss!" hollered Hank. "You ain't never gonna believe what we seen in town!"

The arrow swerved wildly and zinged past the target, lodging itself into the dirt.

"BLAST IT ALL TO KINGDOM COME!" Arrow shouted as he snatched up the shirtfront of a heavy breathing Hank, pushing him forcefully to one of the posts holding up the porch roof. "You ninnies better have some mighty important news to tell otherwise you owe Cassius fifty dollars."

"We just saw a man by the name o' Ward Masen down to the Devil's Luck," wheezed Rufus, his hands braced on his knees, trying to catch his breath as he eyed his friend being rough handled by the boss.

"And that should matter to me why?" Arrow asked Hank, pressing his forearm more fully into the neck of his hapless ranch hand.

"'Cause...he...the..." Hank was beginning to turn blue.

"Because he's the best shot I ever seen, and is exactly what yer lookin' for." James walked casually around the porch, rolling a piece of hay between his fingers before sticking it in his mouth.

Arrow released Hank, who collapsed in a gasping heap on the ground in front of the porch. "So you say?"

"I reckon if Ed Cullen was still around, Masen'd give him a run for his money," James drawled.

Arrow's eyes rose in sudden interest; he looked over at his brother. Everyone knew Ed Cullen was the fastest gun around, but he'd disappeared after a run in with the law in Phoenix. "Well, perhaps we ought to show this Mr. Masen some friendly hospitality. Don't you agree Cash?"

"I certainly do Brother," Cassius nodded, his interest piqued.

"If Mr. Masen is agreeable, perhaps we can move ahead with our plans on schedule."

Cassius clapped his hands, rubbing them together nefariously and turned inside to pen a cordial invite to the newest visitor to Devil's Fork.

Ward had been more than ready to bid James farewell, after he was pointed in the direction of the only hotel in town. Sauntering up Main Street with all his personal effects draped over his shoulder, he took in the sights of the little community. Seemed to him like the name Valentine was slapped up on near half the businesses. He wasn't surprised really; most of the towns like this had one or two families that seemed to own the whole place.

He readjusted his saddlebags and looked up to see a man leaning against one of the posts on the boardwalk. His hat was pulled low, and his stance--while relaxed--was filled with presence. As Ward moved closer to the man, his position shifted, revealing the shining silver badge. Ward slowed his gait as the Sheriff lifted his head in acknowledgment and took one step down off the boardwalk.

"How' do stranger." The Sheriff looked Ward straight in the eye, though it took him standing two steps above where Ward was standing to do so.

"Sheriff," Ward returned the greeting with a nod and a tip of his hat.

"Don't expect we'll be havin' any more tomfoolery the likes of what we saw this afternoon will we?" His tone was calm, but had that edge of authority that can only come from a law man. Even if that law man was a good five years his junior, Ward always tried to respect the badge, until, that is, he had reason to lose that respect.

"No sir, I reckon not. Apologies for the disturbance." The Sheriff gave one curt nod and turned strode into the jail house, which was conveniently located at the end of the row of buildings just across from the Hotel, if that's what you could call it.

The two story building stood by itself, its windows and doors thrown wide open, allowing the loud, jaunty, piano music and general ruckus to spill into the dimming street. Ward cringed at the low class of the establishment as soon as he walked inside. He was used to places like this, but he would never learn to like it.

There were several tables, each occupied by a single man, and each had at least one, if not more, painted ladies draped around him. Liquor was flowing freely, and the noise and debauchery were disturbing even to his hardened sensibilities.

He was two shakes away from turning around and bunking down on his bedroll under a tree, when a buxom red headed, two-bit harlot sashayed right up to him with a gleam in her eye. She had a feather in her hair and was clad in the corseted ruffles and lace, customary of a burly-q gal. She grabbed the lapels of his duster pulling him down to her level, planting a sloppy kiss on his unwelcoming lips. Her wanton mouth tasted of alcohol and tobacco and seemed to have taken on a mind of its own. He placed his one free hand on her bare shoulder and smoothly, but forcefully pushed her away, ending the kiss with a wet sucking sound.

"Well ain't you a sight for sore eyes handsome. Name's Vicky, what can I do ya for? Or can I just do ya?" She purred, running her spider-like fingers up and down his chest as she reached up on her tiptoes to try and assault his mouth again. He grabbed hold of her wrist and pushed her away, holding her at arms length. She pushed her red painted lips out in a childish pout, but quickly shook off Ward's refusal. A few of the other girls had noticed the handsome new comer and his refusal of Vicky and they were making their way over to see if they might get his business.

"Just a room for the night," he ground out, "by myself." Ward could feel his deeply ingrained need to respect women being strained to the limit.

"Well, now that ain't any kind of fun, we got anything you might be wantin' to satisfy your needs. I'd be happy to see to it personally..." she trailed off suggestively.

"Only thing I'm wantin' is a bed and a room...with a lock."

Twice rebuffed, Vicky's demeanor changed from flirtatious to ferocious in an instant. "Fine. It's three dollars a night, upfront," she growled. Her haggard appearance was multiplied by the gruff tone of her voice.

Ward looked around one more time and plunked down two dollars. "I think that's more than enough considerin' the accommodations." She huffed ferociously and grabbed up the cash. He followed his now irritated hostess up to his room. Ward thanked her quickly and thanked heaven in the same breath that she chose not to linger by his door. After making sure the door was securely locked, he unbuckled his gun belt and hung it, along with his jacket, on the lone chair in the room. He took care to slide one of his Colts under the pillow on the rickety iron bed and empty the bullets out of the other.

With a heavy sigh he collapsed on the bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Some time later a sharp knock on his door roused him from sleep. He picked up his gun and walked quietly to the door, wary of the shenanigans Miss Vicky might try and pull.

After turning the key and cracking the door open, he peered out to spy a different girl, this one with dirty blond hair and a greedy smile staring expectantly at him. She was a bit younger than Vicky, but worn looking nonetheless. She thrust an envelope towards him saying, "One of the boys from the Valentine outfit dropped this off for you. Said to make sure you got it right away." She leaned forward slightly, offering an unobstructed view of her cleavage, though Ward had already taken the letter and had the door nearly closed. Her foot was stuck in the door, "Perhaps you could be a little grateful the letter made it all the way upstairs?" He fished a coin from his vest pocket and handed it over to her grubby hand and slammed the door shut.

After setting the lock once more he considered the two women he'd wholly turned down. At one time he would've welcomed the advances, but for some reason unknown to him, he was repulsed by the mere idea of bedding one of these women. Besides, he much preferred brunettes. He stuffed that last thought away into the dark recesses of his mind. He didn't need complications in his life, and the particular brunette that filled his memory, all soaking wet with soft curves, was a complication of the worst kind; the female kind.

Ward set the letter on the bed and stripped off his vest and shirt. He poured some water in the basin on the small dressing table and proceeded to wash the dust and grime from his skin. It wasn't nearly as nice as a bath, but he wasn't about to try and procure one at this particular establishment. Once he was clean, or as clean as he would get from a bowl of water and a rag, he laid himself out on the bed and tore open the missive from the Valentines.

_Dear Mr. Masen,_

_We've heard great things about you and would love the opportunity to discuss a business arrangement that could be mutually beneficial._

_We are prepared to offer you fifty dollars in gold coin just to join us tomorrow morning for a parlance here at The Valle Verde Ranch. If you are agreeable to our terms, it will be financially worth your while._

_We look forward to meeting you tomorrow should you accept our offer. ._

_Sincerely,_

_The Valentine Brothers_

Well shoot. Fifty bucks in gold just for showing up? It'd take a week shilling miners and Joe Shmoe's to make that kind of laid the letter down and smiled at the thought of being able to indulge in the finer things again. He'd been on a tight stretch, which was why he was headed to Carson City in the first place, so the opportunity that now presented itself was a welcome one indeed.

The next morning, he gathered his belongings and headed to the Smithy. He could hear the repetitive clang of hammer and anvil as he neared the shop. As promised, his horse was waiting on the side of the building. He smoothed his hand over the animal's withers and down his foreleg gently coaxing up the newly shod hoof. As Ward inspected Rosalita's work, he could feel a penetrating gaze on his back. Call it intuition, or a sixth sense, but he always new when he was being watched.

"_Es aceptable, querido_? Do you approve?" sarcasm dripping from her words as freely as the sweat on her face. The woman strolled out of the atelier holding a handkerchief. She wiped the sweat from her brow and tucked the square of cloth neatly into her cleavage. Ward quirked his eye at the boldness of her actions, but brushed it off as he had with every other female in this town. Every one but the fiery brunette who both irritated and mesmerized him at the same time; maybe the townspeople were right. Maybe Izzy did have some kind of magic about her. In the few moments they'd spent in the same general vicinity, she seemed to have bewitched him. He'd thought of nothing but her nearly the entire evening, he dreamt of her, and now, darn near everything he looked at brought some thought of _her_ to the forefront of his mind.

"Yes it's fine, how much?" Rosalita rattled off the amount and Ward settled his bill with her and asked for general directions to the Valentines station. Rosalita frowned and began ranting in her native tongue. Ward didn't catch much because of how fast she was speaking and every word seemed to be coated in venom. As she paced back and forth gesticulating energetically with her hands, Ward set to securing his gear back on the horse. When she finished, she looked at him like the matter was settled.

"Well then, I guess I'll just ask somewhere else." He swung up into the saddle and gave a gentle nudge to the horse's flank.

"You mark my words Ward Masen. The Valentines are no good." He nodded as he urged the horse into a brisk trot. On his way out of town, a local wordlessly pointed him in the direction of the Valle Verde, but was hesitant to do more than that. He didn't even offer a reply to Ward's "thanks".

He rode for the better part of the morning until he saw in the distance a sprawling ranch house and several corrals. Ward could see the two buffoons that had been with James, shooting darts on the porch of one of the smaller buildings on the property. One of them must've seen him coming because as he approached the outer fence, the one called Hank had run to the gate and thrown it open for him.

A trickle of people filtered into the large dusty courtyard that fell between the main house, the bunkhouse and the barn. Ward lifted his chin only slightly when James stepped on to the porch and raised his hand in greeting.

Everyone's focus shifted, though, when the three Valentine brothers stepped out of the main house. All three smartly dressed in tailored britches, finely embroidered vests, and fine black riding boots, polished to a high shine. They looked more like dandies than true cattlemen. The dark one who stood in the middle jogged down the steps to where Ward was dismounting, his hand extended and a broad smile stretching over his face.

"Mr. Masen I presume. Glad to have you. I'm Arrow, these here are my brothers Marcus," he gestured to the other dark haired man, "and Cassius," the other brother stepped forward and nodded. Despite his smile, Ward was momentarily put off by the demonic red eyes and deathly pallor of the man.

He cleared his throat, looking back at Arrow and replied, "The pleasure's all mine, what with such a generous offer simply to hear your proposal."

Arrow chuckled and patted Ward on the back. "Of course, of course. Cash, you've got that covered don'tcha?"

"Sure do." He reached into his long coat and pulled out a small leather purse, tossing it casually to Ward.

"I thank you kindly," said Ward judging the weight of the coins before tucking it into his saddlebag.

"I do hope you're prepared to give us a little show. James spoke so highly of your marksmanship yesterday. Said you even rivaled Ed Cullen in your accuracy and speed." At the mention of his former moniker, Ward stiffened ever so slightly.

He took a slow breath in, settling his nerves, before turning back around to face Arrow's scrutiny. "I'd be more than happy to demonstrate my skills, though I can't say as I'm familiar with this Cullen fella."

"Ah well, no matter. Where would you like to start?" Ward had already done a brief survey of the property and had noticed Arrow's archery target. He turned back to his rig and slid the rifle from the scabbard, checked to see that it was loaded, and made his way to where Arrow had been standing just the day before. On his way, he snatched the dart that Rufus had been clutching in his hand, smirking at the startled expression on the numbskull's face.

With out a word, he pinched the shaft of the small projectile, pumped his arm a few times to true up his aim, and launched the dart piercing the direct center of the target. A small murmur of approval spread through the brothers and other ranch hands on site.

Ward then turned around began pacing off in a straight line away from the target. After a good fifty yards or so, Arrow piped up. "You planning on walking back to Devil's Fork son?"

No response came from the marksman as he continued his march toward the outer fence he'd ridden though only moments before. Ward's mind was now focused on one thing and one thing only. The tiny feathers on the end of that dart.

Once he'd walked nearly a hundred and fifty yards from the target he turned and eyed the goal. There wasn't more than a tiny speck that could be seen from where he was. He squatted down and let a pinch full of dust trickle from his fingertips, taking careful note of the direction and force of the wind. At this distance any number of variables could change the trajectory of a bullet. It was his skill that allowed him to make adjustments to his aim, ensuring that he never missed. Ever.

Ward flipped up the sight and shouldered his weapon, squinting one eye closed. The only sound to be heard was the gentle rustle of the tumbleweed scuttling behind him. The sun was nearing its peak in the sky and the heat radiated in waves off the parched ground, distorting his view. And while this was bothersome, Ward had figured out long ago how to account for the shimmering thermal waves and adjust accordingly.

Rufus called out, "Quit beatin' the devil around the stump and fire already!"

Ward pushed down the urge to change his aim to the knothead who didn't know his right from his left. He also refrained from wiping the trickle of sweat that stung in the corner of his closed eye, but he'd need to fire and soon, as he could feel another rivulet of moisture coming down his brow. With one last check of his aim he breathed in and pulled the trigger.

It was several seconds before Ward heard Hank shout, "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!" The barest hint of a smile graced Ward's features as he sauntered back to the waiting group of people. The three brothers were convened in a tight huddle around the target, whispering back and forth. As Ward walked past the other ranch hands, James looked on him with almost devout admiration. The brothers separated and sure as shoot, the dart was split clean down the middle with the bullet buried in the center.

Arrow was practically giddy as he shook Ward's hand. "Mighty fine shootin' there young man. Mighty fine." Out of the corner of his eye, Ward saw Marcus, who'd been strangely silent the entire time, brush his nose ever so slightly.

In almost the same second, James shouted, "HO!" Ward turned and saw the can spinning up in the air, promptly dropped his rifle, grabbed his pistols and popped off three shots sending the can bouncing in a different direction with each hit. And simply to play to the crowd, though he figured Arrow would like the show too, he spun the pistols a few times on his index fingers before holstering them.

Ward threw a satisfied smirk in Marcus's direction and then turned to face Arrow.

"Boys, I think we've found our man!"

**Mel: Hey Belly.**

**Bel: Yeah Melly?**

**Mel: So you're selling yourself?**

**Bel: ****Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but... yeah... I guess I am. But if you win me, you get your choice of Edwards in the bargain!**

**Mel: At least it's for a good cause.**

**Bel: ****For sure! Just think, you can have "WestWard"; "SpaceWard"; "SWATward"; or "TeenWard". Or the "Ward" of your choice! And help fight childhood cancer at the same time. **

**Mel: So many to choose from. So do you think any of our readers thew up a little in their mouths when they read about nasty Vicky? I know I did when I wrote it...**

**Bel: I know I did when I read it! I'm looking forward to the day that Rosalita gives her a taste of that whip! Hey, would somebody pay to read that...?**

**Mel: I know if I had some spare cash and wasn't already helping write this story, I'd want to get a peek at that scene. **

**Bel: Well, if someone wants it, all they have to do is bid. What about Rosalita? That woman is deadly with that whip! Who out there would like to know why she makes James whimper??? **

**Mel:I can't wait for that part. But it's getting late, what's say we get this baby posted and then we can dream of our true vampire desire Robward Cullenson, on screens in just days... **

**Bel: I'll be at the midnight show! Can't wait! There's just something about a 20-foot tall Robward Cullenson.... **

**Mel&Bel: * Sigh ***

* * *

**Translations:**

**Mi Querido: My Darling/Beloved**

**Quién es esto diablo muy guapo: Who is this handsome devil?**


	6. Stinky Swan and Minty Fresh

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. I know, I know, it's been FOREVER since we updated, but stuff happens in real life. Like work, and snow storms, and Christmas!**

**This chapter is out now because of the awesomeness of Melolabel. She stepped up and got this chapter written when I was in major real life failure. She sent it to me and I added some of my special charm, and we are now able to get it out to you.**

**Thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder. Her special talents make this story awesome.**

**So now please enjoy Westward...**

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 6—Stinky Swan and Minty Fresh**

Could the day get any worse? Honestly could anything more catastrophic happen? Yeah, it probably could, and with her luck, it probably would, thought Bella as she galloped away from the center of town. Her embarrassment and humiliation weighed down on her, and as she neared the end of Main Street—away from most prying eyes—she let the tears come, and they fell fast.

The warm air blew past her, drying her new dress into a semi stiff cocoon of fabric. Every now and then a cloud of dust and dirt would billow up, caking onto her tear-streaked face and into her still-damp hair. She rode hard all the way to her little house, back to the stable. The horse seemed to be enjoying the moment; to run so fast and hard, which just riled Bella up even more. Why didn't he get how horrible this all was? Bella just wanted to go back in time, back to this morning and pretend this day had never happened and that she had never gone into town. The regret seeped into her and her emotions were feeling as caked with dirt as her hair. She would've liked to jump off the horse and run straightway into the house and never come out again. Ever.

But Captain needed tending to, so she quickly unsaddled him, drew some water from the pump and filled the feed trough with enough hay to last the rest of the day. She gave him a quick brushing, however she was not as thorough or nice as she usually was. After tossing the brush aside Captain hung his head low and seemed to be a bit chagrined. It wasn't his fault and she did feel badly for being so rough with him. Sighing, she picked the brush back up and more methodically and tenderly gave his coat a good grooming. Her thoughts were still pounding through her head like Captain's hooves on the dry ground. And through all the chaotic mess in her mind, one thought stood out--Why had _he_ stuck up for her? No one ever took up for her like that.

She had become the joke of the town. The crazy one. Swiping the tears from her eyes she tidied up Captain's stall. After the grunt work was done, she trudged into the house and put a large kettle of water on to boil. She would need a bath to get rid of the filth that had collected on her.

The glass reflected her mussed hair and dirty dress. It was a shame that such beautiful clothing had gone to waste. Perhaps, she thought, if she were extra gentle with the washboard, they might still be salvaged. Isabella peeled off the blue taffeta and laid it over the chair next to her dressing table. The suede boots came off next, still damp from her soaking. They wouldn't be very soft anymore, not after they dried.

Once her hair was washed and her face scrubbed, her thoughts turned once again to the handsome stranger. There was something about his eyes; when she looked into them, she'd felt a strange kind of recognition, almost like _déjà vu,_ though she was positive that she'd never seen him in town before. But still…She couldn't shake the strange feeling of familiarity.

The sun was setting fast, but Isabella couldn't be bothered with cooking anything for supper. Her stomach grumbled in protest though, so she unwrapped a loaf of three-day-old bread and sliced off a hunk, slathering it with jam and butter. Dressed in her nightgown, she locked the doors, set the rifle by her bed, and settled in for the night. As she knelt by her bed to pray, she begged the Lord to make today go away and that when she woke up, it would be yesterday morning and she could just start all over. And if he was obliged to that idea, maybe she could just wake up and have her Pa back too. He would have known what to do. Pa would have said, "Well, looks like that horse had the surprise of his life. I wish I'd look down at my drink and find the most beautiful woman in town." She chuckled to herself, thinking of her Pa's sense of humor, nibbling on the last crust of bread.

Licking her fingers of the last of the jam, she frowned, now thinking of her ruined book. Darn _him, _for knocking her into the trough. She had been so looking forward to reading something new, instead, thanks to _him,_ she resigned to pulling out one of her trusty favorites. With much determination, she tried to clear her mind of all thoughts of the handsome stranger and concentrate on the story before her. In no time at all though, the exhaustion of the day became too much and she succumbed to sleep.

"_Jelly Belly she's so smelly." The two boys had caught up to Isabella on her walk home from school and sandwiched her in between their larger shoulders. She'd stepped in a pile of dog scat on her way to school that morning, and thought she'd wiped it all off in the grass, but after sitting in the schoolroom, other children began to complain of the smell. _

_She was mortified when the teacher finally sniffed her out and made her take her shoes off and put them outside. The other children had been horrible in the play yard, and these two boys saw fit to follow her home and continue the taunting._

"_Leave me alone!" She yelled, as angry tears streamed down her face. She had known these boys all her life and they were being merciless, it was cruel, and she was just an easy target._

"_Stinky Swan! Stinky Swan," they teased as they continued jostling her between them, pulling on her braids. She was about to try and make a run for it when an angry voice called out from behind them._

"_Hey Clem! You best be gettin' away from her right now." _

_They all stopped and turned around, the boy on her right responding, "Or what?"_

"_Or I'm gonna thump you like you've never been thumped before." The little girl's heart dared to hope that she was saved when she saw Eddie come toe to toe with Clem. Eddie was a good 4 inches shorter than Clem but he held a menace in his eye that made it clear he was serious about his threat. And something in that look scared Clem into believing the promise behind it._

"_Well maybe if she took a bath, she wouldn't stink so bad," said the other boy, though not nearly as assured as he was before. Eddie stepped away from Clem and stood in front of the boy on Isabella's left._

"_You wanna say that again, Roddy?" _

_Isabella had backed up, clutching her books, and stood plastered against the fence in front of the row house where they had stopped. Roddy shook his head and began stumbling backward, away from Eddie. Clem looked over his shoulder at the little six-year-old girl and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He shook his head and pushed past Eddie, making sure to knock his shoulder stiffly into Eddie's, mumbling, "Stupid girl, she still smells."_

_Without a moment of hesitation, Eddie pushed Clem's shoulder around and punched him square in the nose. Clem dropped his books and pressed his hands to his now bleeding nose. Tears sprang from his eyes and he began sobbing. _

"_Don't ever talk bad about her again, picking on a little girl, and now look at ya, sobbin' like a prissy baby," ground out Eddie before turning back to Isabella. He reached out for her hand and said softly, "Come on Bella, I'll walk you home."_

_She slipped her small hand into his larger one and turned to look back at Clem, who'd fallen to a heap on the sidewalk. She poked her tongue out at him and then looked up to her savior with something akin to hero-worship in her eyes. His tousled auburn hair was disheveled and he had a small red mark on one of his cheekbones. But his green eyes danced with kindness as he looked over at her._

"_What happened to your face?"_

"_Nothin'," he said rubbing his cheek slightly. He wouldn't tell her that the reason he wasn't there right away to walk her home was because he was giving a pounding to a few of the other mean children that had been making fun of her. But he didn't really need to tell her; she probably already figured that out._

"_Thanks Eddie, you're the bestest friend ever." She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek._

Isabella shot up in bed, her heart pounding and her breathing labored, her eyes darting around the room as they adjusted to the gloom. The moon shone through the curtain, illuminating a small sliver of her bedroom. She opened the old pocket watch and saw that it was still the middle of the night. The dream was so real and the memory was vividly clear…

_Eddie_!

* * *

Isabella spent the next several days holed up in her little house cleaning, painting, repairing little bits of fence, and cleaning out the barn. She went down to pan with Jacob, but she didn't see hide nor hair from him either. She was doing anything and everything she could to keep her mind occupied with thoughts that did not center on the boy she knew as a child or, more specifically, the man he had become. He had obviously not recognized her, and though he stood up for her, it wasn't because of who _she_ was, but rather because of who _he_ was.

Her face crinkled in frustration as she realized her mind had once again strayed, as it had done so many times in the last few days, back to the bronze-haired man that had knocked her into the water trough and then, just as quickly, lifted her to safety. He had changed. A lot. There was hardness and an edge to his manner that had all but eclipsed that gallant boy of her childhood who always came to the underdog's rescue. She allowed herself a small smile as she realized that one thing hadn't changed; he was still rescuing underdogs.

She did a quick mental calculation and realized it had been almost twenty years since they'd last seen each other. The thought of all those years and the changes fate had wrought in her life, suddenly made her feel very old and alone. She was so isolated out on the ranch, it wasn't often that she allowed herself the luxury of traipsing down memory lane and revisiting the memory of what it was like living in the midst of so many people and friends.

What had he been up to? I had been years since she had seen him. The last time was probably only a few weeks after the incident with the bullies. Why hadn't his family followed them out West like they'd planned? She had been little at the time, but she could remember hearing her parents wondering the same thing,

And how did he end up here of all places? And why now? Her mind was swirling with unanswered questions when she was snapped out of her thoughts by a bellowing yell…

"Dizzybells!!" She peered out one of the dusty windows at the back of the house and cracked a small smile. She hadn't seen Jacob since before...the incident. And he was always a sight for sore eyes. Even though they were just friends, she could appreciate the many physical gifts God had bestowed on her native friend. From his glossy long black hair and gleaming white smile, to his very well muscled body.

She mounded the ball of dough she had been kneading into the large wooden work bowl to allow it to rise and then dusted off her hands on the towel tucked into her apron. It had been too many days since she'd last seen him, and she was in sore need of some company.

Left to her own thoughts for that many days was never a good thing. Melancholy and despair always seemed to creep in. Though for the last several days she had been more than distracted from the negative thoughts that were usually present by the nightly dreams and other snippets of memories of Eddie. She was still struggling to reconcile the boy she once knew with the man she had met in town. Not that she knew much of anything about the man he'd become. All she knew was that she had been thoroughly frustrated by his seeming air of aloofness. And she was starting to get mad as she thought about all the letters she'd taken the time to write him—in her very best penmanship—that he'd never responded too. They had been best friends! Why hadn't he seen fit to write back?

She pushed away the image of the man that had been at the forefront of her thoughts for days as she opened the back door and stood on the top stair plastering on a wooden smile for her friend. "Jacob! What brings you this way?"

He hopped off his mount and tossed the reins loosely over one of the fence rails before striding over to Izzy and hoisting her up in a big bear hug. "Can't I come see my friend?" Her facade melted a little at his genuine declaration and she wrapped her arms tightly around him, relaxing into the sureness and honesty of his hug.

"Of course you can, I wasn't expecting you. But I'm right glad you're here."

"Well," Jacob said, "I haven't seen you at our fishing spot since the day we went to town, so I came to find out if you'd fallen down the well or gotten yourself into some other kind of trouble."

She frowned slightly at the mention of town, and then poked her tongue out to show her feigned offense at his teasing. Jake chuckled as he stepped back and looked at the clothes line, the low laughter turning into a whistle of appreciation as he noticed the blue gown flapping in the light breeze.

"This is pretty. I haven't seen it before."

"I got that from Alice's shop the other day." She couldn't help the fallen expression that flashed over her features.

"And you had to wash it already?"

"Don't even ask."

"Too late," he smirked. "I know my Dizzy! What happened?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing back and forth, hating the embarrassed feelings that bubbled up in her chest. But she was incapable of hiding anything from Jacob. He knew her too well.

"I got pushed into a watering trough…and covered in horse snot!" She lifted her chin in defiance, waiting for his tease. At first he just looked at her. But slowly, the humor spread across his face and his large tanned body began to shake with silent laughter.

"Oh Iz, only you! It could only happen to you." He was gentle in his ribbing, and she didn't feel nearly as humiliated as she had when it had happened but she was still feeling irritated if at nothing else but the truth of his words. Things like that just didn't happen to most other people.

She proceeded to give him the full accounting of what had happened, igniting Jacob's protectiveness of her and his desire to put an arrow into Ward and James' backsides. Izzy hadn't disclosed her theory—about which she was almost a hundred percent sure—that Ward and her childhood friend Eddie were one in the same.

She had formulated a plan though, to find out for sure. But maybe it was already too late. What if he'd already left town? All the better she thought. If he didn't remember her, then their friendship must not have meant very much to him. Except…it used to mean something to her. But she buried that thought deep down in her heart. At this precise moment she was more irritated with his actions in the present than the memories of how things had been in the past.

His mocking, glorious, green eyes, his stiff and standoffish manner, not to mention the guns he wore, all added up to one thing. Even though he'd stood up to James and rescued her-- _after_ he had knocked her into the trough it should be noted--he had become a scoundrel! Pure and simple. He had changed, _a lot_, over the past twenty years. And even if he did happen to remember her, she wouldn't want anything to do with the scoundrel he had become.

And at the moment, with her irritation with the stranger back in full force, Isabella actually believed that to be true.

Jake left shortly after devouring the lunch Isabella fixed him as payment for hauling wood and several buckets of water into the house for her. That was only one of many things she missed about her father.

The next morning she tucked her new boots—that had dried stiff and crusty—into one of the bags slung over Captain's saddle. Hopefully Alice would be able to help her fix them. As she swung herself into the saddle, she could tell that Captain was dreading this trip to town as much as she was, but it had to be done. So with two heads hung low, they slowly clomped their way to town.

The bell over the door had hardly chimed before Isabella was engulfed in the arms of her tiny friend. "Oh Iz, how are you? I'm so sorry about the other day, I was so sure that something good was going to happen, I just...I felt horrible watching you ride away. Are you alright?" Her small hands fluttered all around Isabella's face and shoulders as she offered comfort, but in her haste, those hands looked more like frenzied butterflies.

"Alice! I'm fine," Isabella assured her friend. "My pride is injured, but then that's nothing new is it? Can you fix them?" She asked plaintively, thrusting her suede boots towards Alice.

"Hmmm," she said taking them from Bella's outstretched hand and looking them over with a scrutinizing eye. "I just might, though it'll take me a bit of time. Why don't you come back in a little bit and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Alice, and you know I don't hold anything against you. It wasn't your fault I got pushed into the trough. That would be entirely the fault of my own personal rotten luck." Isabella shrugged and gave Alice another quick hug before stepping onto the boardwalk.

She crossed the wide and dusty expanse of Main Street and walked into the General store. She wound her way silently around barrels of meal and large sacks of flour, various farming implements and other household items, to the back corner of the store. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the edges of her mouth. She ran her hands lightly over the spines of the very small collection of books on the dusty shelf. Her face fell just a bit when she realized that she'd either read or owned all of the books the shopkeeper offered. She had been so hoping to find a new title and couldn't help her thoughts from straying to the stranger, to Eddie. _He ruined my book!_

The sadness flickered briefly in her heart before giving way to indignation. She would've gladly given up the fancy dress and the new boots if only she could have her book back. It was in this tempest of emotions that Bella hurried out of the store without a word to the clerk. She had only momentarily closed her eyes to try and shake off the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. But that one moment was long enough to catch her toe on a large display of rakes that someone had carelessly placed on the boardwalk just outside of the entrance.

Her hands flailed helplessly as she stumbled forward. Her eyes clamped shut, not wanting to see each stair as she tumbled down to the dirt. But instead of the pain she anticipated, she felt a pleasing warm sensation on her hips at the same time as her arms landed on a firm set of shoulders. She was tipped forward, her toes barely scratching the edge of the top step. And when she opened her eyes, she was nose to nose with none other than the stranger from before. _Eddie!_

Well.

His vibrant green eyes danced with mirth as his long fingers firmly gripped the flesh of her hips and waist. She could smell the shaving soap and a minty flavor on his breath. She realized suddenly that they were in very close proximity which set her heart to beating a thunderous gallop in her chest and her own breath to catch in her throat. He really had grown into a devastatingly handsome man. Too bad he'd turned into an arrogant and annoying person. And a scoundrel, to boot! Too bad he'd forgotten his best friend. Her cheeks were beginning to burn with blush because this was not one of the thousand scenarios she had pictured of their second meeting; she was moderately prepared for those, but not for _this_. She slid her arms over his shoulders trying to get enough of a grip to push her body away from him. He seemed to have other ideas as his firm grip on her hips tightened slightly.

"You know you really should try paying attention to your surroundings," he breathed softly as his green eyes locked with hers. "It would save you a whole lot of trouble. What would you do if I weren't around?" Something dark and smoldering had settled in his gaze as he let his eyes roam her face. He continued to peruse her body, wandering down until he could see her feet dangling inches above the ground and clearly visible as her skirt was hiked to mid calf. A look of surprise crossed his face as he asked incredulously, "Are you wearing…men's boots?" His eyes lit with sudden mirth as they again met hers and the smirk that lit across his face almost demanded a set-down.

He wasn't disappointed.

"What's it to you whether or not I fall on account of my paying or not paying attention to my surroundings?" Isabella demanded, her entire body shaking with indignation as she willed herself not to start bawling in front of this insufferable man. She swallowed back the tears as she whispered in sharp defiance, "And never you mind about my boots!" Nobody talked bad about her daddy's boots. Especially him. He hadn't cared enough to be around when her daddy died, she could certainly care less about his over-inflated opinions now.

"Well, when I'm the one who's liable to get run into, I do my best to prevent the collision entirely." Ward was doing his best to keep his own ire under control. Then he realized she was close to tears and he knew he couldn't take that. He would much rather see her spitting fire at him than crying. He had to think fast. "However, it can be rather rewarding to rescue a damsel in distress." He flashed a broad smile and gave her a gentle squeeze before he set her softly back on the board walk. His words had the desired effect as he watched the irritation replace the sadness on her face, only to be quickly replaced with slight exasperation as she looked at his wide grin.

Because that was when she noticed a little piece of green stuck between his two front teeth.

_Men! s_he thought dryly. Did they never look into a mirror?

"I thought you'd be gone by now," she retorted, the tiny speck of green distracting her so that she completely ignored his implied suggestion that she was, in fact, a damsel in distress.

"Well, I'm not," he answered slowly, slightly bemused by her lightning fast mood swings.

"So I see."

She crossed her arms and stared, her eyes pinching at the corners from glaring at him. Her fascination with the green speck had changed into anticipation as she waited. She wanted him to recognize her. He had to recognize her. He just had to. She really hadn't changed that much had she? And she still had the same name, unlike this two-facer before her. Her irritation returned as he just kept grinning at her with that blasted green speck lodged in his teeth. Her fingers itched with an overwhelming desire to just reach forward and pick it out. But that wouldn't be the thing at all. Annoyed that he still didn't remember her, she huffed and shook her head while stepping to the side to make her way down the stairs.

But as annoyed as she was, he _had_ saved her from certain pain, and probably a knocked out tooth as well. This would also give her a chance to test her theory. She walked past him and heard him heave a long, drawn out sigh. Isabella looked over her shoulder and said, "Thanks for saving me…Eddie."

His body visibly stiffened and her only thought was _gotcha. _

**A/N:**

**Belly: Hey, Melly.**

**Melly: Yes, Belly?**

**Belly: ****I've had a really eye opening week. A snowstorm knocked out my power, phone lines, and water. I've been living like Ward and Izzy for the past week.**

**Melly: ****And in the snow no less. I'll bet you're glad you have a wood burning stove!**

**Belly: ****Don't I ever. Remind me to give my hubby a kiss for insisting we put one in our fireplace.**

**Melly: ****So it's been a little while since we posted, do you think anyone is still with us?**

**Belly: ****I think we still have some loyal readers. And I think each and every one will show us some love by leaving a review.**

**Melly: ****I hope so because that would really encourage us to work fast to get chapter 7 out, and that's when things start getting good...**

**Belly: ****Oh, don't you know it. Hear that ladies, the West will start getting REALLY hot soon!**

**Melly: ****And you know that's the chapter when they begin to find out.........**

**Belly: ****All the good stuff....**

**Melly: ****And dream of Westward….. **

**Belly and Melly: *sigh***


	7. Run Ins

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. We hope we are finally back on a regular updating schedule. We think you're really going to like this chapter. We hope so, because we really enjoyed writing it.**

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope all you guys do too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

* * *

**The Marksman **

**Chapter 7—Run Ins**

Ward was brought up short by the use of his childhood nickname. How the devil did she know about him? And if she kept spouting things like that, she'd ruin everything he had going.

He turned his head just far enough to give her a perfect view of his strong profile as his chiseled jaw and sculpted cheekbones were thrown into relief against the mid-morning sun. His voice took on a gravelly quality as he ground out, low and firm, "The name is Ward. Ward Masen." He shot his eyes in her direction and she was slightly taken aback by the fire that blazed within. Her heart rate increased and it was suddenly hard to breathe. She was tempted to just agree and go away quietly, but she'd felt riled up about him all week long and she was more certain than ever--he _was_ Eddie and she wouldn't back off from her theory.

Her remembered anger helped to steady her nerves enough to reply in a condescending tone, "Okay. If that's what you say." She looked at him, a challenge in her stature.

"That is what I say." He tipped his head and brought his right index finger to the brim of his hat as he said, "Now I bid you good day. Izzy."

"And to you too _Ward," _she repeated his name with exaggerated emphasis. He nodded seeming satisfied with her understanding about his name. She began to walk away shooting glances over her shoulder every few feet. He had turned around completely to face the street and watched her with a burning curiosity. When she was nearly in the center of the street she turned and grinned. He was as stoic and unmoving as a statue, watching her walk away.

"By the way _Eddie_, you have a mint leaf stuck in your teeth_._" She wiggled her fingers at him and hurried across the road and back to Alice's shop.

She faintly heard an annoyed curse shoot from his mouth before he called loudly in her direction, "Ward! Ward Masen!"

She smiled wryly as she pushed her way into Alice's shop. She immediately walked over and peered out the window to see him fuming mad and stomping away. A few people seemed to have noticed the encounter, but it wasn't enough to cause too much of a scene so they just continued about their business. She turned into the display of ready-made dresses hanging from every available surface and protruding into the already narrow pathway that ran through the center of the store. She stopped abruptly, noticing that Jasper was there, and sharing a tender moment with his wife. Isabella was about to turn and head back out of the store when the amused voice of her best friend rang through the overstuffed space.

"And just where," Alice said with her hands on her hips, "do you think you're going Missy?"

"Um, nowhere?" Isabella replied, feeling the earlier blush start to creep back into her cheeks.

"That's right, nowhere. I made extra for lunch and I would be mortally offended if you refused to eat with us." Alice locked the front door, flipped a sign in her window and marched to the back of her store where she had a small office set up--Jasper and Isabella dutifully following behind.

Somehow the pair managed to convince Isabella that she just had to stay in town until after supper. She was happy, though, to remain with Alice for the duration of the afternoon. She really had no reason to rush home. It was good to be able talk with another woman for a change. She loved Jacob, and would never discount the support and companionship that he gave her, but she had missed the sisterhood that she shared with Alice.

Isabella would hide in the back when customers came in, and when the shop wasn't busy, she kept Alice company as she worked on alterations and other shop business. During one of the slow moments, they cleaned the mud and water spots on her boots with methylated spirits. Now it was Isabella's job to use a very stiff-bristled brush to fluff the nap of the suede. She was pleased that her efforts had restored the boots to near perfection.

Alice popped her head in and smiled. "They look brand new Iz. You should put them on now."

"But we just got them clean," Isabella protested. "What if something happens to them again?"

"I promise to make sure you do not go swimming in your boots today. Besides, they are meant to be worn and you don't have the best of luck when you are parading around town in those men's boots."

Isabella huffed remembering her earlier encounter with Eddie—Ward—Edward, and sat down to remove her pa's boots and tug the suede ones on and lace them up. She was vastly annoyed because the shoes _were_ very comfortable, and they did fit much better than her father's old boots. But she was sure that as soon as the laces were tied, some other disaster would occur to damage both her new boots and her fragile hold on her self-respect.

Jasper met them on the boardwalk just as Alice was locking up her shop for the night. He graciously offered each lady an arm. They strolled casually to _The Devil's Luck_ and pressed through the swinging doors one at a time. The light was much dimmer in the saloon, and there was a trilling, lazy song being played on the piano in the corner. Jasper nodded to the regulars, who acknowledged him likewise, as he steered the two women to a table near the piano.

"Well if it ain't two of my favorite gals!" exclaimed Emmett as they passed by. "What can I get'cha?"

"Lemonade if you've got some."

"I'll have cider," grinned Alice.

"Pour me some fire-water!" hollered Jasper.

Emmett grinned and set to work preparing the drinks. Moments after the trio walked in, Rosalita swept into _The Devil's Luck _like a sandstorm--she had all the subtlety of a rabid coyote_--_carrying a box. Isabella's curiosity was piqued, but she couldn't see what it contained from where she sat. Every man in the room took a moment to look her over but then with a glance at the whip coiled on her hip, they all turned back to their drinks and card games. She set the parcel down and stood directly in front of Emmett, using the brass footrest that ran along the entire length of the bar as a step. With a wicked grin and hungry eyes she grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him forward as she hummed sensually. "Ah mi toro hermoso," she said huskily, "béseme."

"With pleasure ma'am," Emmett replied and placed a searing kiss on the beautiful Spanish woman's mouth.

Jasper and several of the other customers began howling and hooting at the bold display of affection. Rosalita broke away from the kiss and gave a hiss to the jeering crowd. "It is nothing you haven't already seen. Es mi amor, tan silencio!" She raised her eyebrow up daring anyone to contradict her. There was immediate silence, save the piano.

Alice and Isabella returned their attention to their drinks as Jasper downed his in one swallow followed by a sharp intake of breath and loud, "hoooo doggie." Emmett was never one to water down his drinks and they packed some serious bite.

The conversation was friendly and as the evening wore on, the atmosphere became looser and more jovial. The gentleman at the piano began plunking out a lively tune. Jasper grinned, his gold tooth flashing in his carefree smile, as he held his hand out to Alice, wordlessly asking for a dance. Isabella was content to sit and watch; her two left feet were not meant for dancing. Her eyes darted to the door when the slatted wings clattered together. It was _him!_

Again her heart started humming in her ears as it beat double time and it seemed as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room. She didn't know if the cause was anger or excitement and the rush of conflicting emotions was dizzying. This was the second time today that she'd seem him and she was no more prepared to see him this time than she had been this morning. She really didn't want to have another quarrel with him. It just seemed like he brought out the fight in her and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why; they'd never fought when they were children. She tried to keep her eyes focused on her glass but couldn't help sneaking glances at him through her lashes as he sidled up to the bar. He sat down on a stool close to the end where Rosalita had taken up a perch. Isabella watched as the Spanish woman slid the package that she'd been carrying under Eddie's nose right before Emmett set down a glass containing some dark liquid in front of him. Isabella chuckled inwardly as she thought of the name he was insisting on being called – _Ward!_ Ha! He was her Eddie and she just knew it.

Isabella was now blatantly staring at the exchange going on between Eddie and Rosalita. She watched as he opened the box and began examining the contents. He pulled out a bullet and eyed it closely, nodding appreciatively. She wasn't aware of just how engrossed she'd become in her voyeuristic activity until Emmett's large fingers were snapping in front of her nose.

"Iz, you know it ain't polite to stare?" His wide grin let her know that he was on to her fixation.

She closed her slightly open mouth with a snap and said, slightly flustered, "Don't know what you're talkin' about Em." Isabella tried to infuse her words with nonchalance that just wasn't there.

"Sure you don't. Now c'mon and give me a dance." The piano changed tunes and began playing "Yellow Rose of Texas". Isabella knew immediately that Jasper must have requested that tune as it was his favorite.

Isabella shook her head in protest and tried to pull her hand out of Emmett's large paw, but it was a lost cause. He had already hauled her out of her chair and had begun swinging her around in a jumpy polka. Jasper was singing along loudly, and slightly off key, but nothing seemed to matter when he had Alice in his arms.

Isabella tried and failed to push away the slightly envious feelings she had toward her best friend as she gazed at her wrapped in Jasper's embrace. They had a love match if there ever was one, and she was happy for them. But there was still a part of her that mourned her loneliness and decried the fact that it was quite likely she'd never find someone special to share her life.

Emmett, meanwhile, was doing his darnedest to help her have a bit of fun. He began mimicking Jasper with an effeminate and silly overtone that caused Isabella to laugh wholeheartedly. It felt really good to be laughing again.

She was so caught up in Emmett's bear hug of a hold that her feet hardly touched the floor. Nearing the end of the song, he swung her around releasing one hand, turned her out, and accidentally sent her careening across the dance floor.

Isabella was laughing, feeling a bit dizzy, until she crashed into the hard back of a figure seated at the bar. _Not him. Please not him. Anyone but him! _She chanted over and over in her head before she turned reluctantly to face her victim. The figure turned around slowly, fire burning in his eyes. Her hands flew to her mouth as she realized her worst fears had come true. He drew his shirtsleeve across his mouth in an agonizingly drawn-out motion. A brown, wet, stain now covered the front of his once pristine white linen shirt. The music ground to a halt and it felt like every last eye in the establishment was trained on them. Again!

Ward looked down his front and back up at Isabella's stricken face. "You ruined my last clean shirt," he ground out. Her mouth worked silently and then anger bloomed on her delicate features and strengthened her demeanor. She drew herself up to her full--though diminutive when compared to Ward--height and faced him down.

"Well, I guess now we're even," she spat back, saucily putting her hands on her hips, challenging him to another verbal sparring match. The fire in her eyes and spice in her voice had a strange effect on Ward's insides. She was so feisty. It amused him to the point that he laughed outright which only served to fan the flames of Izzy's ire.

"Perhaps, but I think you owe me..." and that was as far as he got before…

"Now you just hold on a minute! I don't owe you a cotton-pickin' thing – _Eddie_!" She interrupted his statement and punctuated each word with a sharp poke in his chest with her index finger. Isabella was mad. And when she was mad, she spoke and acted before she thought. She just couldn't leave well enough alone.

Ward's eyes flashed as she repeated the name. Why did she have to go pressing this Eddie business? No one had called him that in years. If he didn't play this off right, it could ruin everything. Ward knew how gossip spread in a small town, and if he wasn't careful, someone was bound to figure him out.

And now here was Isabella, full of spit and vinegar, ready to blow his entire cover and he was simultaneously struck with how beautiful she looked when she was angry and how she could make him madder than any woman had before. Her face was flushed and her hair was wild and she glowed with just a hint of perspiration. Her chest was heaving from her anger mixed with the effort she'd just expended on the dance floor. She was exquisite, breathtakingly beautiful even. But at the same time she was also just being plain stubborn and rude. He didn't know if he wanted to kiss her senseless or take her over his knee and give her a spanking. The contradiction of the two urges made him extraordinarily cross.

He took a deep breath and was assaulted by the mixed scent of flowers and woman, and he had to fight twice as hard to rein in his emotions before addressing her in a smooth, velvety tone, "I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, that you owed me a dance. Instead, I think I'll just settle for you washin' my shirt." He watched as anger, shock, embarrassment, dismay, and finally, resignation, flitted across her expressive face. "And for the last time, the name's Ward Masen." With that he pulled off his vest, tugged the soiled garment loose from his breeches, lifted it over his head, exposing his perfectly sculpted chest, and tossed it at Isabella, whose eyes were as wide as saucers, and who had been effectively stunned into silence.

He snatched up the box and his vest from the counter and stormed toward the door grumbling under his breath. Isabella watched his movements as he pulled the vest back on, partially covering his muscular torso, but still revealing enough to cause her heart to race and the blood to hum through her veins. She swallowed hard as she fought for breath and composure in the face of such male beauty.

James hadn't been exaggerating, Ward thought as he strode out of the saloon. In spite of her beauty, the woman was crazy! But what bothered him most and what he had yet to discover, was why did she, of all people, insist on calling him Eddie?

* * *

Ward stretched his arms above his head in a vain attempt to relieve the stiffness in his back as he rose from the cot he was assigned in the ranch bunkhouse. He was glad to be out of the den of iniquity that was Miss Vicky's Inn, but he was stiff and sore from the less than comfortable accommodations he'd been given here at the ranch. When he rode through the gates of the _Valle Verde Ranch_ last evening_, _Hank and Rufus began caterwauling and hooting, askin' who he'd lost his shirt to at the poker tables. He simply hopped off his mount and made like he was going to punch their lights out. That was about all it took to shoo them off.

He relayed the story to James who chuckled but kept any other comments to himself. James had learned his lesson that first day in town. Though in retelling the story, Ward was reminded of the look on Izzy's face when he threw his shirt at her. Had he just imagined the look of dismay that crossed her face when he mentioned that he had been planning to ask her to dance? He could still feel how tiny and warm she felt as his hands closed around her small waist when he saved her from tipping head over ears down the stairs at the general store. He could see again the brilliant smile she wore when Emmett was twirling her around the dance floor. And that _something_ he couldn't put his finger on that awoke a part of him that he thought died long ago.

He couldn't help remembering how beautiful she looked when she was spitting mad, and how kissable her soft lips looked as he watched her give him what for. And he had only to close his eyes to remember her intoxicating scent and the effect it had on him. It was the reality of her talking and calling him out as Eddie that burst the bubble of the perfect woman he'd conjured up in his mind. He shook off those feelings as he tried to work a crick out of his neck. It was more than just the fact that he hadn't had the company of a fine woman in a long, long time. No, there was more to it than that. He just knew there was more to Izzy than met the eye, and it was itching in his brain.

He reached over to the floor behind the bed where he had left his clothes last night, only to find that his vest and black pants were gone and had been replaced by a set of buckskins.

"What the hell?" he blurted out, turning to James as he inspected the buckskins. "Who took these out of my gear and where the hell are my clothes?"

"Don't ask me," James said in a perplexed voice that Ward could tell was genuine.

"Wait a minute," Ward said as his thoughts raced. He remembered the ribbing he had taken the night before from Rufus and Hank when he had showed up at the ranch without his shirt. He turned to James, "Do you think those two fools had something to do with this?"

James didn't need to ask who Ward was talking about, he just nodded and said, "I wouldn't put it past those two. I've never met two bigger idiots in my life."

Ward looked over at James and quirked his lips into a smirk. "Why don't we beat'em at their own game?"

James' eyebrows shot up in question. "What you got in mind?"

"Well, I'm gonna put these buckskins on and march right out of here like I wear them everyday." The grin on Ward's face was getting bigger all the time. "When they say something, I'm gonna tell 'em that I wear these whenever I'm on a job. I'll tell 'em it's part of my disguise."

The two men shared a chuckle as James said, "Oh, that's good! I can't wait to see the look on their faces."

He dressed quickly in the buckskins, that he had to admit were really comfortable, and headed up to the main house. Arrow had requested that he join them for breakfast. He and Cassius were going to outline their plan in detail before taking him out to scout the area where the "undesirables" were located.

When the brothers commented on his attire, Ward decided to stick with the same story he was going to tell Rufus and Hank. The Valentines accepted his explanation at face value and just chalked it up to eccentricity.

As they ate, Arrow painted a grandiose picture of Devil's Fork becoming the hub of a rail-way system. The increased traffic of goods and people through the area would cause an explosion in the local economy, bringing in large amounts of business. And having already noted that half the storefronts had Valentine in the name, Arrow's pockets were sure to explode as well.

The only problem standing in his way was some vagrant Injuns and one Holly Homesteader who wouldn't sell out. In the few days that Ward had spent with the Valentines, he had learned that they had very little compunction about eliminating any roadblocks that stood in the way of their project. No matter the cost.

"So make sure you've got your rifle," Arrow said with a glint of humor in his eye, "never know what kind of varmints we'll come across while we're out." He gave Cassius a knowing wink and slapped Ward on the shoulder as he walked with him out into the courtyard.

The three brothers saddled up as Rufus, Hank and James joined them. Rufus and Hank were all set to enjoy Ward's discomfort when the tables were turned and Ward just smiled at them and continued to saddle his horse. After a few minutes, they couldn't stand it and had to make a comment on Ward's clothes. Without missing a beat, Ward told them the story he had prepared while giving them each a look that would freeze the devil himself in his tracks. They both swallowed thickly and didn't dare disagree. It was clear that the subject wouldn't come up again.

Ward turned back to his mount, quickly secured his rifle scabbard, and swung up into the saddle. He'd already loaded his gun and gun belt with the impressively-crafted ammunition he'd purchased from Rosalita.

The seven men rode for over an hour, slowing as they traveled through the tall pine trees that grew on the bluffs overlooking Devil's Creek. They came to a thinning spot in the trees and Arrow motioned with his raised fist that everyone should stop. Ward inched his horse next to Arrow's and looked in the direction he pointed.

Ward was confused. He'd been expecting a rag tag group of disorganized savages, perhaps a band of vagrants he could easily scare off with no harm. He had not expected carefully constructed huts and the large number of women and children that were present. There was nothing savage about these people. This was an entire community.

"All these redskins gotta go," said Cassius in a low voice, leaning forward in his saddle so that his crimson eyes stared directly into Wards.

"And have you tried asking nicely? Who owns the land?" Ward inquired.

"Well, according to their treaties with the territorial governor, they do. But that's beside the point. Progress is coming, and they are standing in the way. We've offered'em a fair price for the land, but they ain't budgin'," Marcus drawled.

Ward grunted in acknowledgement, though he figured a fair price was probably pennies on the dollar for what the land was really worth.

"So this is where I come in?" Ward questioned slowly.

"Well, you and Mr. Winchester there," Arrow smiled indicating Edward's specialty rifle. "Pick off the leaders, maybe a few of the _smaller_ ones," he stated matter-of-factly. "All at a distance, you know, don't wanting them putting a face to the fear."

"Or an ax in your neck," Cassius chuckled under his breath.

Wards gut twisted with disgust knowing Arrow meant the children. They hired him as an exterminator, but he hadn't signed up to kill peaceful people—women and children no less--who seemed to rightfully belong on this land. This deal was starting to stink and Ward was ready to tell them what they could do with their money when prudence crossed his mind. While he'd like nothing better than to throttle Arrow and put a bullet in all three of the Valentine brothers, his experience told him that patience played out a lot better than haste.

"Come on, let's head to the next property, it's not far." Arrow clucked his tongue and urged his horse back onto the path that followed the ridge.

Ward continued to look out over the Indian settlement, a few small children that had been playing seemed to look up and see him. The wheels started turning in his mind, trying to think of a way to avoid the kind of massacre Arrow was proposing. He would not be a part of that.

"You comin' partner?" James had paused on the trail.

"This ain't right James. You know this ain't right," Ward breathed, too low for the others to hear, as he trotted his horse past James.

"Right? What does that mean anyhow?" James whispered as he caught up with Ward. "I know it's _right_ for me to get paid, and I know it's _right_ to not get the Valentines mad at ya." He sighed and continued, a look of concern twisting his mouth. "Lookey, I know what they want done ain't _right, _but I didn't realize it was a whole village either," he huffed. "I didn't... I swear! If I'd known, I'd've never signed on with them." He cut his eyes over to Ward as he continued, "But here we are now, so what can I do? What can _you_ do?" James spoke under his breath, an apology written all over his face.

Ward gave him a curt, understanding nod and kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with the group.

As they crested a gentle rise, Ward saw a small homestead with a white clapboard cottage set proudly toward the front of the lot. A barn, listing to the east, rickety and worn, housed a horse and some farming tools. There wasn't much else to the outside other than a few cacti and a neatly kept pathway that led from the back door to a clothesline. There was a single white shirt flapping in the gentle breeze of the morning. The sight of it nagged at him somehow. Was that what he thought it was?

His musings were interrupted when the back door banged open and Izzy came strolling out and yanked the shirt off the line and balled it up as tight as she could. It would retain the wrinkles for days, but the action made Ward chuckle at her fiery spite.

"Well, there you go Masen. A perfect opportunity! Why not get one out of the way right now? This should be easy," smiled Arrow, "there's not a single obstacle anywhere."

Ward stiffened in his seat. _What?!_ he thought. No, this definitely wasn't right.

"And, we're well within your range, aren't we?" sneered Cassius.

Ward put a firm hold on the anger that was now coursing through him as their intentions became clear. It took everything in him to answer in a calm tone, "So, other than committing the unforgivable sin of being in your way, what has the woman done to incur your wrath?"

"I don't think I appreciate your attitude Masen," growled Cassius. Arrow set a hand on his shoulder to calm his unpredictable brother and turned to Ward.

"What hasn't she done?" hissed Arrow. "That girl is like a pebble in my boot! She's nearly destitute since her pa…died." The hesitation in Arrow's voice churned up Wards curiosity but now wasn't the time to ask about that. "The bank will own the property within a month's time, and she's just too damned stubborn to see reason. And we're pretty dadgum sure that she's planning somethin' 'gainst us with them redskins." Arrow was seething by the end of his tirade, his face was red and blotchy and his nostrils were flared. The cool calculating facade was momentarily stripped away, replaced with raw greed and evil.

"Then why don't you just wait until the bank takes the land, you own half the bank anyhow don't you?" The tone Ward was taking with Arrow was dangerous, but at least he was restraining himself from strangling the man with his bare hands. Even under normal circumstances, he could not and would not condone this level of injustice or unwarranted violence. To become the best gunslinger in the West, Ward had developed a healthy respect for his weapons, and what they could do. He wasn't one to casually kill people, especially women. Especially _this_ woman even if she did drive him to distraction. For some reason, she sparked something else deep inside him; spoke to the chivalry that was an inborn part of him. He had a nearly uncontrollable _need_ to protect her, from everything, at all costs.

"We own forty-nine percent, and we don't have a month to wait," growled Arrow. "If construction don't begin within a fortnight, our investors will pull out and we'll be up the creek without a paddle." Arrow was red in the face with anger as he screeched, "She has to be taken care of now."

"Whatsamatter?" Rufus jeered, "ya chicken?"

James, whose horse was right next to Rufus, raised his rifle butt and smashed Rufus square in the jaw. Because he was caught off guard, Rufus slipped sideways nearly falling off his saddle, cursing James the whole time.

"Shut up Rufus, this ain't your matter," James snarled. Marcus eyed the scuffle with interest, one hand curled loosely around the handle of his pistol, but said nothing that might interrupt the stare down that was currently going on between Arrow and Ward.

"Well?" Arrow looked expectantly at Ward, who hadn't budged, his eyes riveted on the young woman who had now stuffed the shirt behind her head and was laid out in the shade reading a book. Devil take it, but he still admired her spunk! And there was no way in hell that he was going to let any harm come to her. Not while he had breath in his body. But Ward knew he was in it up to his elbows with no apparent way out at the moment.

"And if I refuse?" he spoke softly, still masking his fury as he bided his time.

"If you refuse, then Cassius, I'm sure, will have no qualms about escorting you away from Devil's Fork. Don't think that we believe your real name is Ward Masen either. A man with your prowess with a gun don't go unnoticed in these parts. I am a powerful man, and though I haven't figured out exactly who you are yet, you can rest assured, that I will soon." Arrow left nothing to the imagination as to his meaning. Cassius would escort Ward to some remote place and put a bullet in his head.

Sighing heavily, Ward pulled his rifle from its leather sheath and checked the magazine. "That's more like it man," Arrow's approving tone sent more waves of disgust and nausea ripping through Ward's insides, but he wasn't in the position to do much about it.

Reluctantly he lifted the sight and loaded the first round into the chamber. He could feel his hands tremble ever so slightly as he raised the gun to his shoulder. Never had he aimed a weapon at a woman or a child, never once. And his hands never shook, especially not when he was aiming his gun. He could feel his throat tighten and the faint taste of bile at the back of his tongue as he sighted the brown haired woman in his cross-hairs. He took one last swallow and pulled the trigger.

The report from the shot echoed through the still air. When the dust jumped just beyond Isabella's position, Hank hollered out a guffaw. "You missed!" he roared. The Valentine brothers remained still, not quite believing their eyes. This was the man who _never_ missed. He was as good as Ed Cullen or maybe even better.

With the sound of the shot and Hank's laughter still ringing all around, Ward spurred his horse and took off at a full gallop down the trail. He watched as Izzy scrambled off the ground and ran into the house. He could hear the shouts and hoof beats thundering behind him but he bent low over his horse's neck, urging him to move faster, clutching the reins in one hand and his rifle in the other.

Ward was as good a horseman as he was a marksman so he made it down to the house before the others caught up, though he could see he had only a few seconds advantage.

He chanced a glance toward the house and watched with incredulity as Izzy ran back out. "Hey, lady! You gotta get the hell outta here!"

"Don't you 'hey lady' me Eddie, and how dare you curse at me! I ain't going anywhere." She had her rifle in her hand and had almost made it to where Ward stood, when the rest of the group reined their mounts to a dusty stop in the yard. Rufus quickly jumped off his horse and grabbed Isabella from behind, holding a knife to her throat.

She began to struggle, screaming at him to let go of her, until she felt the jagged blade cut ever so slightly into the soft skin of her neck.

"Well, well, little Isabella," Arrow spoke in a sickly-sweet voice.

"What do you want Arrow? Were you shootin' at me?"

"Ah no, that would be our hired man here, Mr. Masen."

Isabella's face fell as her head jerked in Ward's direction. "How could you Eddie? How could you shoot at _me_?" This had all been too much for her: The anniversary of her father's death, the humiliation in town, Eddie showing up. She felt herself retreating into that place in her brain where she didn't have to worry about such big problems.

"Shut your mouth Iz," Ward warned her softly, his eyes never leaving Arrow. Her eyes widened at his words and she suddenly began to realize, in some very small way, just how much trouble they were in.

"Well Mr. Masen, I didn't take you for the point blank type of person, but if that's how you want to do things then, by all means." Arrow said as he dismounted. He walked up next to where Isabella was still being restrained by Rufus and leaned over to whisper into her ear. Whatever he said to her caused her to kick her legs violently. When Arrow simply laughed in her face she spit at him and yelled, "You're a worthless, low-down, dirty, rotten coyote, Arrow Valentine!"

The back of Arrow's hand flew out, striking Isabella's cheek snapping her head sharply to the side. Ward jumped down off his horse and stalked toward Arrow. He glanced over at Isabella and watched in stunned silence as she spit at Arrow again; this time the saliva was streaked with blood.

"Leave her alone!" Ward's voice was menacingly low and he managed to get off one good punch to Arrow's nose before two sets of hands grabbed his arms. Hitting a woman was never acceptable, not in Ward's book. And _never_ with this woman! He wasn't proud that he had shot at her, but at least he hadn't hit her.

"Now Ward, that was just plain disrespectful," Arrow said with a sneer as he threw an order over his shoulder. "Hank, get the rope and tie him up."

Arrow crossed the small space between himself and Ward, who was still being held immobile by Marcus and Cassius, and buried his fist into Ward's gut. He landed another blow to Ward's cheek, sending an explosive pain ripping through his mouth and jaw. He stuffed another punch to Ward's midsection, causing his knees to buckle under him. Turning away in disgust, Arrow signaled to Rufus to let Izzy go as Hank rushed to tie up Ward.

"Well Miss Swan, say goodbye to your daddy's house and to your gallant champion over here," he smirked as he indicated the tied up man on the ground. He turned to go but Izzy rushed toward him, beating his back in futility. He turned sharply and backhanded her again, spinning her to the ground. "You had your chance to do this the easy way, Missy, but instead you chose to fight us. You wanted the hard way, well now you're gettin' what you had commin'," he roared.

Rufus and Hank picked up Izzy by the arms and she started fighting again, scratching and biting anything she could reach. She must've gotten in a good one because Hank screamed in pain and immediately hit Izzy in the gut, doubling her over. She fell to her knees and lost some of her fight. They quickly tied her up as well then walked over to where Ward had been sitting. He kicked out hard with his bound legs trying to take out Hank's footing, but he missed by a hairs breadth. The two men began wailing on Wards face and torso, striking anywhere they could.

At one point, Hank looked over his shoulder to James and said, "You better come git your licks in 'cause we ain't gonna cotton no bellyachin' from you fer not havin' a go at this'un."

James was in a pickle now. He didn't agree with the Valentines methods, but if he tried to do anything about it now, he'd be on the receiving end of a whole lot of hurt. He knew he'd have to bide his time if he wanted to get out of this mess with his skin intact. He swallowed his disgust and stood in front of Ward as he was hauled to his feet, and gave him an apologetic look before punching him hard in the gut and once on the same cheek that Arrow had struck. At this point, Ward was nothing more than a barely conscious sack of potatoes. And with one last hard punch to the back of his head, James knocked him out completely.

Izzy's screaming had begun to irritate Arrow, who struck her once more before instructing Hank to shut her up. Hank raised the butt of his gun and brought it down heavily on the side of her head, knocking her unconscious.

After several moments of eerie silence as the men looked upon their handy work, the rattle of a wagon came around the house from the barn. Cassius drove Isabella's old buckboard and stopped beside the two motionless bodies.

"What now boss?" Hank asked Arrow as he stared speculatively at Ward and Izzy.

"Take this," Arrow tossed a coil of rope to Hank, "and get rid of 'em." He waved his hand dismissively toward the unconscious pair.

Hank and Rufus were congratulating themselves on a good fight as they loaded Ward and Izzy into the back of the wagon. James climbed up into the drivers seat and took the reins. Arrow looked at James pointedly and said, "You make sure it's done right." James nodded once and watched the three brothers trot off toward the center of town. He had to fight the twitch in his fingers that were itching towards his gun as he watched them disappear from sight.

James gritted his teeth as Rufus and Hank jumped up on the buckboard, taking their seats beside him before he clicked to the horse, setting the wagon into motion. It was a long trip to Ghost Tree and he hoped silently he wouldn't have to shoot the two idiots beside him before they got there.

Two hours later, James pulled up on the reins halting the wagon by the tree and got down to help remove their cargo. He had listened to Rufus and Hank argue on the proper way to make a noose with which to hang the two in the back. Hank had argued that it should be done one and Rufus argued it should be done another way or it would come loose under the strain. James had had just about all he could take of the two buffoons. He also knew he was not going to let them hang these two by the neck. And he had, over the course of the two-hour trip, come up with a plan. It wouldn't be pretty, but at least it wouldn't be out and out murder. They might have a chance.

"Hey, boys, we ain't gonna let these two get off that easy are we?"

Hank and Rufus stopped in mid argument to look at James. Hank spoke up, "What you talking about, James?"

"I'm talking about making these two suffer some for the trouble they've given us today," James told them, seeing that they were taking his words to heart.

"And how might we do that?" asked Rufus, leaning towards James a little.

"Well, instead of hanging them by the neck, let's hang them by their ankles and let the buzzards have 'em?

Hank and Rufus looked at James for a moment before looking at each other. Broad smiles broke across their faces as they warmed to the idea. With just a little encouragement, James soon had them thinking it was their idea all along.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Melly: So, you're getting more snow, eh Belly?**

**Belly: I sure am. I'm beginning to think I fell asleep one day before Christmas and woke up in Alaska!**

**Melly: Maybe you're neighbors with the Denali girls…. **

**Belly: Maybe. But they better stay away from our Westward!**

**Melly: Yes, or we'll scratch their eyes out. Westward is ours!**

**Belly: Definitely! So how do you like the UST building between Ward and Izzy? Now everyone will have to go back and re-read the first chapter!**

**Melly: Is UST ever a bad think? I guess if it remains unresolved, it is. And yes, we're just about caught up with our timeline with the first chapter. I'm so excited to know what people think. **

**Belly: Oh, me too! Hear that, lovely readers? We love reviews!**

**Melly: That we do, and since we're posting this early, we have all day to dream of Westward.**

**Belly: Yes, I'll watch it snow and you watch the sun and we'll both think of Westward.**

**Melly & Belly: * sigh ***


	8. Memory Lane

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. We hope you enjoy this chapter as much as we enjoy bringing it to you. This is the first time that Ward and Izzy really get to be alone. **

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope all you guys do too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

* * *

Chapter 8 – Memory Lane

This chapter begins at the end of Chapter One. Recap:

_He'd tried to ignore the town folk, tried not to pay any mind to the stories he'd heard about her, but now his curiosity got the better of him. He just had to know._

"_So why exactly do they call you 'Crazy Izzy', and just what do you think you know of my momma?"_

_Now where did he get off asking a question like that? _Bella thought. Though she wasn't that surprised, after all, he had been nothing but rude to her since they had regained consciousness. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why he had come to her rescue if he hated her so much. It was obvious that he was somehow connected to the Valentines. And he _had_ admitted to shooting at her. As the thought went through her mind again, she couldn't prevent her anger.

"Maybe you should tell me why you tried to kill me? Huh? Answer that one, Eddie." She sped up a bit and flung the last bit over her shoulder as she stalked away from him.

"I didn't try to kill you. If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead now," he snapped in return. She had to be the most exasperating woman he'd ever had the displeasure to meet. But even as the thought went through his mind, he had a little tickle in the back of his brain, he couldn't quite figure it out. Instead he was remembering the softness of her legs as he had bound her feet with the cloth from her petticoat. He gave himself a little shake. No! He wouldn't let himself be distracted by her feminine charms.

"Then why did you shoot at me? My Pa always said, 'Don't shoot at anything unless you're prepared to kill it.' So just why did you shoot at me?" Isabella's fury was still simmering at the thought. Her hair was swinging wildly over her shoulders as she continued to stalk away, in who knows what direction, as though she had a particular destination and time to get there. Never mind that Ward was still the most handsome man she had ever seen, he was still in league with those land-grabbing devils from the Valle Verde. She wouldn't let herself remember how he'd tried to protect her at the last. _He shot at her!_

"At the time, it was the only way I could think of to save your dang-blasted life!" Ward was also in a fine temper by now. Didn't she remember how the Valentines had beaten him to within an inch of his life because he tried to help her? Maybe she really was crazy after all.

"Save my life!" she spat out incredulously. "What, by shooting at me?"

"No, by shooting at you and _missing_!" He flung back at her. "Lady, don't you understand? I. Never. Miss! You're alive because I deliberately did _not_ blow that pretty little head off!"

A look of pure confusion crossed Izzy's face as she stopped dead in her tracks and turned on him. "Then why…"

"Because I had to buy myself the time to try and save your life! The Valentines are determined men. And they want you dead! Now do you mind explaining your part in that?" Edward was glaring at her now through tiny slits of his eyes, holding the sun and his anger at bay.

He watched as the truth of his words sank into her mind and showed on her face. Even streaked with tears and dirt, her beauty shone through. He saw a frown crease her forehead before she spoke.

"They killed my father, you know." Her words were barely a whisper and he watched the pain of the memory dull the sparkle in her eyes, her previous anger extinguished. Now she just looked hurt and alone and vulnerable and Ward felt as if a hand was squeezing his chest as he studied her face. His anger collapsed all around him and he felt like the world's biggest idiot. With her chin tucked to her chest and her eyes cast down, she continued, "I can't prove it, but I know they did. He wouldn't sell the ranch, so they killed him."

She drew a ragged breath and he knew she was moments from crying again and he just couldn't handle that. _Damn those Valentines_. Ward knew the brothers were no good. But he and Izzy didn't have time for a pity party right now. He had to get her mind off her father and back onto the problem at hand.

"Well, you've got bigger worries than that now, darlin'. It's you they want dead; you and those Indians that live in the settlement next to your place."

The sadness in her eyes turned to horror as she whipped her head up and said, "The Hualapai? No! They can't do that! This land was theirs long before the white man settled these parts."

"Well, I don't know about that," replied Ward, "but the Valentines are bound and determined to get their land – and yours."

"No, they can't do that. They can't!" she said emphatically shaking her head back and forth. "Eddie, you've got to help me. We can't let them get away with this."

Ward held up his hands, palms facing her, to keep her at bay. "Now wait a minute. I don't know if I want to get involved with…"

"Eddie, whether you like it or not, you _are_ involved," she interrupted. "Do you think the Valentines are just gonna forget that you pulled that hero move back there at my ranch?" When Ward remained silent, she continued, becoming more animated as she spoke just inches from his face. "Well, take it from me. The Valentines don't cotton to anyone thwartin' their plans, especially someone who double crossed them and went over to the other side." She paused to let her words sink in. "Believe me, you just moved into the number one position on their 'people to kill' list."

As much as he hated to admit it, Ward knew she was right. The Valentines would not rest once they found out he and Izzy were still alive. Then another thought suddenly crossed his mind – they were _still alive_. Why was that? It had to be James. The young cowboy had big ambitions to match his big mouth, but deep down, Ward knew he wasn't all bad.

When he still didn't say anything, Izzy began jamming her finger into his chest, "Well, are you gonna help me or not?"

She waited while Ward continued to brood and ponder. He grabbed her hand with one of his to stop the jabbing and pulled her close to him. With his arm around her waist he suddenly realized how close they were and how hard they were both breathing. She looked into his eyes without blinking, but without true guile or her mask of anger, he saw a lot of hurt and an open heart that she was dearly protecting. Edward gently, but quickly let go. She took a step back and hugged her arms around herself as though she were trying to hold on to something. He realized that there was no way around it; he would have to help her. But first, he wanted some answers.

"Okay, I'll help you on one condition."

She looked up at him warily, trying to judge what that condition might be from his face. Unfortunately for Izzy, Ward was an excellent poker player. Unlike her, his face gave nothing away.

"Well," she said cautiously, "that all depends on your _one _condition." She swallowed hard and lifted her chin into the air, and said in a haughty tone, "And before you say anymore, Eddie, I want you to know that I'm not the kind of woman that you meet at Miss Vicky's."

Ward blinked a few times as he took in her words. Did she honestly think he was going to ask her to…?

"No!" he nearly shouted. "_That_ wasn't my condition!" He watched as a blush crept up her face under the coating of dust and was suddenly aware that he wasn't _that_ opposed to the idea, but…NO! Ward Masen had never taken advantage of a woman. Neither had Ed Cullen for that matter and he wasn't about to start now.

"Well, I would certainly hope not," she said with all the dignity she could muster as her hand furiously straightened her skirt and she pulled her shoulders back to stand a little taller. He watched her with hidden amusement as she did her best to keep up the haughty look on her dirt-streaked face.

Ward turned his head away quickly so she wouldn't see the smile that crossed his lips, the smile that was quickly interrupted by a hiss and shooting pain in his neck. He'd nearly forgotten the beating he'd just taken and reached up to rub his neck. He rolled his shoulders a bit and took a moment to compose himself before he turned back to her. "No, ma'am, my condition is a simple one. Answer three questions: Why do you insist on calling me Eddie, why do the folks in town call you 'Crazy' Izzy, and how do you know my momma?

Izzy took a deep breath as she thought about his questions. Ward was fascinated by the surplus of emotions that crossed her expressive face as she contemplated her answer. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, her words were unexpected.

"Eddie, have you ever been to Philadelphia?"

"Philadelphia?" The word came out of Ward's mouth in a burst of surprise. "Why are you asking me about Philadelphia?"

Ward looked at her with renewed interest. How did she know about Philadelphia? No one knew he was originally from Philadelphia. There was no way she could know about Philadelphia. That little tickle in the back of his brain began to feel more like a cougar trying to claw its way out.

"Just answer me," she said quietly, her eyes now locked with his.

Something about her soft brown gaze struck a chord deep within him, he just couldn't place it, and he found he couldn't lie to her. Taking a deep breath, he answered.

"Yeah, I've been to Philadelphia. What of it?" He spoke so softly that she had to strain to hear him.

Isabella took a sharp breath at his answer. She swallowed hard before she continued. "Have you ever heard of a man named Charles Swan?"

"Charles Swan?" Ward repeated. He hadn't heard that name in a whole lotta years.

"Yes, Charles Swan? Have you ever heard of him?" She was insistent and Ward again found himself answering her honestly.

"I believe my father had a friend named Charles Swan."

"Do you remember anything about him, or his family?" Ward looked at her, completely perplexed as to why she was asking about his father's old friend.

"I remember that Charles Swan was a business partner of my father's back in Philadelphia. He had a wife and a daughter, but they moved… west…"

Ward's voice trailed off as his mind raced as the memories came flooding back. Charles Swan and his family had moved west nearly twenty years ago.

_They. Moved. West. _

No, it couldn't be. Could it? Ward stared again into the liquid brown eyes that looked so familiar. He saw again the sweet curve of her mouth and for a moment he was ten years old again…

"_Jelly Belly she's so smelly." _

_He could hear the two boys taunting the tiny girl and heard her angry retort, "Leave me alone!" She was crying through her anger with that same fearless stance and tear streaked cheeks. _

"_Stinky Swan! Stinky Swan," they continued their merciless teasing and he ran to catch up. He stopped right behind them, his fury nearly blinding him. _

"_Hey Clem! You best be gettin' away from her right now." Eddie's hands were fisted in rage._

_They turned around, sneering at him, "Or what?"_

"_Or I'm gonna thump you like you've never been thumped before." Eddie couldn't remember ever being so mad. He couldn't stand injustice and being mean to a little girl was the lowest of the low. _

"_Well maybe if she took a bath, she wouldn't stink so bad," the other boy said, getting his two cents in but looking at Eddie with a little fear clouding his eyes._

"_You wanna say that again, Roddy?" The words came from between Eddie's clenched teeth. He saw the little girl back up, getting out of their way. Good! _

_Roddy took a step back, as Clem looked at the girl before pushing past Eddie with a look of disgust and muttering, "Stupid girl, she still smells."_

_And quick as lightning, Eddie hit him square in the nose, causing the blood to spurt a foot in front of him. Eddie stood over his crying form, shaking because he was so mad. "Don't ever talk bad about her again, picking on a little girl, and now look at ya, sobbin' like a prissy baby." _

_Eddie gave him one more disgusted look and turned to the little girl, holding out his hand. He could see she was still scared as he smiled and said gently, "Come on Bella, I'll walk you home."_

_He grasped her tiny hand in his and the pride he felt for her as she turned and stuck her tongue out at Clem, welled up in his chest. _

"_What happened to your face?" she asked softly, turning back to look at him._

"_Nothin'," he said as he rubbed his cheek and remembered the whoopin' he had given to a couple of other rude kids that had made fun of her. _

"_Thanks Eddie, you're the bestest friend ever." Then she had stood on tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek. _

Ward came back to the present with a jolt.

"Bella?" He didn't realize he had spoken aloud until he saw the flash of recognition on her face.

"Yes, Eddie, it's me, Bella." She gave him a watery smile as her eyes once again filled with tears. "Took you long enough!"

Ward couldn't believe it. Charles Swan's daughter, Bella, was Crazy Izzy? Why? What had happened? But before he could voice the questions, another thought assailed him. Charles Swan was dead?

"Your father…" his voice failed him and he couldn't continue.

"Yes, my father is dead." The sadness overshadowed her face again. "He was murdered a year ago."

"What about your mother?"

"She died the year after we moved here." The sadness compounded on her face.

Ward had to shake his head as he tried to take it all in. His father's best friend and business partner, Charles Swan, was dead, and so was his wife. His daughter, the tiny, much-maligned Bella, was now the grown woman standing before him who was known by her acquaintances as 'Crazy Izzy'. And the Valentines were trying to kill her. _He himself_ had taken a shot at her. If not for his quick thinking and the grace of God, she'd be dead right now. His stomach churned as he tried to wrap his mind around all this new information.

Ward was silent so long, that Isabella felt she had to say something.

"Eddie, are you alright?" she asked in a worried tone.

"Bella. Bella Swan," Ward stated as he shook his head and looked at her again. Now it was obvious who she was. She still had those big brown eyes, the same heart-shaped face and creamy skin she'd had when she was six, even if it was now covered with dirt. Her mouth was still the same with that bow-shaped upper lip and fuller, lower lip. Her rats-nest of mahogany hair was a far cry from the curls that had tumbled down her back when she was six, but the rich color was still the same. But that was where the similarities with her six-year-old self ended. She had grown into a beautiful woman, a very beautiful woman, with soft curves in all the right places.

The sound of her voice brought him out of his reverie.

"That's right. I'm Isabella Swan, daughter of Charles Swan, your father's friend and business partner." She never took her eyes from his face as she continued slowly, "And you're Eddie…or more correctly, Edward Anthony Cullen."

The sound of his real name rolling so easily off her tongue was like a punch in the stomach to Ward. To cover his momentary speechlessness, Ward glanced at the sky. The sun had now traveled lower into the west. He estimated it was close to three in the afternoon.

"Come on," he spoke as he began to walk. "We need to walk now. We can talk later. Right now, we're a long way from anywhere. More important, we're a long way from water."

They walked along side by side in silence for half an hour or so, the sun beating relentlessly down on their heads. Isabella had brought out the torn remnants of her petticoat and torn a piece off to tie over her head much the way Ward had done earlier, using part of it to shade her face. It helped a little to keep the sun from burning her skin to a crisp. Finally Ward drew up and spoke.

"We have to find water, and soon, and shelter before nightfall," Ward's voice croaked from his dry lips.

"I can help," Isabella spoke softly, and Ward couldn't tell if her voice was that low because she was shy or because her throat was as parched as his.

Ward turned to her and asked, "How?"

"Don't laugh at me," she said, "but I have a… gift… for divining things."

Ward remembered the way she had closed her eyes and turned around before telling him which way to go a while back. At the time, he thought it was just 'Crazy Izzy' being, well, _crazy_, but now it was Bella Swan speaking and for the life of him, he couldn't think anything bad about her.

"Okay," Ward spoke carefully. "What can you do?"

He watched in amazement as Bella closed her eyes and stretched her arms away from her body, her palms held parallel to the ground as she let her body become tuned into her surroundings. She felt the familiar tingling run up her legs and into her arms. She felt her body being pulled to the right and let the sensation take over as she concentrated.

"There, in that direction, about three miles away, is water." She pointed to the distance and spoke with assurance as she opened her eyes to meet Ward's.

"You're sure?" It was a simple question and held no tone of disbelief in her abilities.

Isabella smiled at Ward and answered, "Yes, I'm sure."

And without further question, Ward turned in the direction she pointed. There were hills all around them in the distance. How could she know that this way was the shortest distance to find water? He couldn't for the life of him understand why he didn't question her, but something about the certainty of her voice, coupled with the fact that she was Bella Swan, made him trust her instincts. Besides, he didn't have any better reason to go any other way.

They trudged on over the dusty ground, walking silently again until Ward asked gently, "This divining thing of yours. Is that the reason people call you 'Crazy Izzy'?"

She gave a dry laugh and answered, "Part of it, I reckon. The other reason is because I'm friendly with the Hualapai tribe. Folks 'round these parts don't take kindly to people being too friendly with the 'Injuns'." She scowled at the too-familiar name for the people she considered close to family. There had to be a better name for such a noble and dignified people.

"How did you become friends with them?" Ward asked, genuinely curious.

"Because of my father. He became friends with them years ago. They helped us a lot when we first moved here and they respected my father because he was always fair with them."

"Your father was a good man." Ward spoke sincerely. "My father always spoke highly of him, especially of his honesty."

Isabella turned her head and gave him a smile. "Thank you. Yes, my father was a good, honest man. He was the best Sheriff around these parts."

"Your father was the Sheriff in Devil's Fork?"

"Yes, since the year my mother died. The town needed a Sheriff and my father needed a job. So, he became the Sheriff."

"That must have been tough on you. Being Sheriff takes a lot of time, and what with your mother being gone and all."

"No, I don't remember it being that hard at all." Isabella's smile broadened as she spoke. "I met my friend Alice the first year I went to school here, and after Momma died, I spent most days at her house until my father got done with work. Mrs. Brandon became like a second mother to me and Alice became my sister."

Ward watched as another shadow crossed her lovely, dust covered, features. "Then Mrs. Brandon died five years ago. That's the same year I became the town school teacher."

Ward couldn't hide his surprise at this admission. Bella was a schoolteacher? Somehow that image didn't quite add up with the way she had been treated by the town's people.

"You're a school teacher?" Ward tried to mask the incredulity from his voice, but didn't quite succeed.

Isabella's mouth twisted in derision, "Well, I _was_ the school teacher. That is until my father was killed and word got around that I was friendly with the Hualapai and things went from bad to worse and I was _replaced._"

"How are you supporting yourself?" Ward asked. "I ask because the Valentines were wondering the same thing. Seems they think your ranch will be repossessed by the bank anytime now."

A sly smile crossed Isabella's lips. "They best not count on it. I can certainly support myself."

Okay, Ward thought. So she had to have some other means of income. Well, that was interesting, but not important at the moment.

"Can I ask you a question now?" Isabella asked in a quiet voice.

"I reckon. Only seems fair. What's on your mind?"

"Why are you going by the name 'Ward Masen'?"

Ward stopped walking for a moment, removing his kerchief to mop his sweating brow, and gazed into the distance. He looked closely, squinting his eyes then turned to Isabella.

"For a few different reasons, most of them too complicated to get into right now. Needless to say, I have a good reason and would be much obliged if you kept my real name to yourself." He paused and watched her expressive face as she pondered his words. "Would you do that for me, Bella?"

She let her eyes travel over his face, looking for some sign to tell her if she should trust him enough to just take what he said at face value then realized that this was her Eddie. If he said he had a good reason, she knew it must be true.

"Okay," she answered simply.

He nodded his head in appreciation and gave her a quick smile. "Thanks," he said softly and turned this gaze back to the horizon.

"Look, you can see the trees clearly now. There has to be water close by." He pointed in the distance.

Isabella looked in that direction and shaded her eyes with her hand so she could make out the outline of the trees.

"Yeah, just like I said," she replied before lowering her head once more and resuming her trek as if it was obvious and he should have known all along the water would be there. .

Ward shook his head and said to himself, "Amazing".

It took them another twenty minutes to reach the small stream and the trees that lined its banks. Behind the trees, the sheer bluffs of the canyon walls stood proudly against the late afternoon sky. After slaking their thirst with the clear, cool water, Ward moved off along the bluffs, leaving Bella to rest in the shade. He walked about a hundred yards and came upon a shallow cave, not more than twelve feet deep, but big enough for him to stand up in. It would offer them much needed shelter for the night. He began to scout around for firewood and found enough dry branches along the creek bank to last the night if they were careful. After collecting what he could. he hiked back to where Isabella sat dozing under the shade of a sycamore.

Ward just looked at her for a while not wanting to disturb her. She sat with her back propped against the tree trunk, her head lolled to the side, one hand clutching the remnants of her petticoat and the other lying palm up at her side. She had managed to wash most of the grime from her face revealing her smooth skin and her still swollen lip. Ward felt something twist inside him as he remembered the way Arrow had slapped her across the face. She was one tough woman and he couldn't help admiring her. She had been through a lot today. She had been shot at; hit in the face; knocked unconscious; hung upside down to die; weathered a trek on foot in the blistering sun, and still managed to look innocent and just plain lovely. She was more like that spunky little girl from so long ago than he had thought.

He reached out a hand to touch her, but paused as she spoke, "Eddie? Where are you, Eddie?"

Ward opened his mouth to answer, but then she spoke again. "Why are you so mean to me, Eddie? I never did anything to you. Why don't you remember me, Eddie? I remember you…"

Her voice trailed off and Ward realized she was talking in her sleep. His heart tightened at hearing the words she had spoken aloud. Suddenly, he could see the fragility behind the bravado and more than anything in the world, he wanted to protect her. He felt swept back in time and he was that little boy again. He contemplated how different he was now.

Ward squatted down beside her and lifted his hand, letting the back of his fingers lightly caress her cheek as he looked into her sleeping face. She stirred slightly, nuzzling closer into his touch and breathing a sigh. He really hated to wake her, but the sun was getting lower in the sky, and he wanted to get a fire started before darkness settled over them.

He dropped his hand to her shoulder and shook her gently. "Bella? Bella, wake up."

She moved her head sideways, a pout on her lips and a soft 'humph', alerting him to her displeasure at being woken up. He smiled at her adorable grumpiness and stroked her cheek again. Slowly, she opened her eyes and the pout began to curve upward into a sleepy smile.

"Eddie?" she whispered.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied softly. "You need to wake up. I've found us a place to spend the night just down the way." Ward motioned with his head in the direction of the cave.

Isabella rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand and slowly tried to get to her feet. Ward saw a grimace cross her face as she tried to rise so he reached out instinctively and placed his arm under hers--his hand pressed firmly in to the curve of her lower back--and helped her gently to her feet. She winced again as she tried to move her stiffened muscles and upon seeing her try to fight the pain, he bent and placed his other arm under her knees and lifted her against his chest, gritting his teeth as he felt the pressure against his sore ribs.

Isabella opened her mouth to protest, but Ward cut her off.

"Don't argue! You're in no shape to walk right now. For once, just don't say anything and accept my help graciously."

Isabella closed her mouth with a quick snap, which made Ward grin slightly. Her eyes closed and she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder.

If she were honest with herself, Isabella didn't want to protest. She quite liked the feel of his arms around her and the strength of his chest against her side. And now that she was positive that he was her Eddie, she felt content to do as he asked.

Within minutes, Ward was reluctantly placing her on her feet within the shelter of the cave. He had quite enjoyed the feel of her nestled in his arms. She was small, but had supple, generous curves in all the right places, and he was suddenly glad he had the excuse of building a fire to disguise the evidence of his feelings.

He picked up two round sticks he had chosen earlier and set about briskly rubbing them together near the small pile of tinder he had close at hand to catch the spark.

"What are you doing, Eddie?" Isabella asked, stretching her neck sideways to see around his body as his back was turned toward her.

"I'm attempting to get a fire started. It would be much easier if I had my tinderbox, but it's in my pack which is probably being violated by one of the two idiots that work for the Valentines," he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice at her seemingly ignorant question. So for now, this is the best I can do.

"I have a better way," she replied, waiting for his response.

Ward was still a little out of sorts with the effect carrying her had had on his body, and he answered her crossly. "Well, for now, I'll just stick with my way, okay? That is unless you can now make fire fly from your fingertips?"

Isabella gave a little "Humph," to which Ward countered with, "No, I didn't think so," and continued to rub the sticks together to produce a flame from the friction.

Without saying another word, Isabella began silently unraveling threads from her now ruined petticoat. As Ward continued to labor over the sticks, Isabella quietly formed quite a nice little pile of threads that soon resembled a small bird's nest. She then leaned forward, feeling the protest in her stiff muscles, and began to gather small twigs and made a nice little stack of those, placing them in a small pyramid shape, much like a teepee. Then she gathered a few bigger sticks, about a half-inch in diameter and laid them beside the stack of twigs. When she was finally satisfied with her preparations, she again spoke to the now sweating and harshly grumbling Ward.

"Eddie, may I borrow your knife?" she asked in her sweetest voice.

"What?" Ward threw over his shoulder, never pausing at his task.

"Your knife? May I borrow it?" Isabella asked again just as sweetly as before.

"Why do you need my knife?" he asked. Evidently, though, he didn't need or expect an answer as he continued almost immediately, "It's at my back, like before, but you'll have to get it yourself." Ward was still very cross, though this time not for the same reason as he was a few minutes ago. He was getting tired and the sticks were barely warm, much less hot enough to ignite. He was beginning to think he was doing something wrong. But he needed something to focus on other than her, so he just leaned into the task even harder.

Isabella scooted herself slowly over behind Ward and carefully lifted the knife from its holder, pausing only briefly to admire the curve of his back before moving back to her little piles of kindling on the ground. She couldn't help the smug little smile that played around her lips as she reached for the smooth, black stone she had wrapped in her now deformed petticoat. She had found it while she washed up in the stream earlier.

She was nearly chuckling to herself as she thought how surprised the bull-headed man laboring so hard in front of her was going to be in a few minutes. Isabella had learned a thing or two from her best friend Jake. And knowing how to identify flint was one of them.

She held the blackish gray stone over the pile of threads and struck it with the metal at the butt of the knife.

Crack! Crack!

And with a third crack of the metal against the flint, a spark flew to the tinder and with careful blowing, then quickly moving the nest of glowing strings to the pile of twigs, Izzy soon had a perfect little flame. Reaching for the bigger sticks, she held one of them over the small flame until it caught fire, then she carefully rose to her feet, ignoring the pain in her leg muscles, and carried it proudly to the sweating and now thoroughly disgruntled man. She leaned down and softly put her left hand on his arm to still his movement, feeling a tingle move through her hand and up her arm from the contact with his bare skin. Then she lowered her right and ignited his tinder with the flame now dancing brightly at the end of her stick.

To say Ward was surprised would have been a serious understatement. To say he was astounded and totally flabbergasted would have been a more accurate description.

"How…" Ward was too dumbstruck to finish. Isabella just smiled and shook her head as if she were confronting a child. Then she placed the burning stick amid his carefully constructed campfire and moved away as the dry wood caught the flame and began to burn. Then she moved back behind him, picked up his knife and the piece of flint and brought both back and placed them in his hands.

With an indulgent smile she spoke, "I picked up a few things from my Hualapai friends, Eddie. One of them was how to recognize flint when I see it and the other is how to use it to start a fire."

Ward was speechless! She truly was amazing. He let out a burst of air that was a cross between a huff and a laugh, and told himself again to stop doubting this woman. If she said she could help, he could pretty much count on it.

Ward used the remaining bit of daylight to scout along the creek for food. He found a few berry bushes and soon filled the piece of bark he was using as a basket. He and Isabella devoured the berries and huddled close to the fire as darkness fell.

With the darkness came the cold. That was the thing about the desert – it was hot as Hades during the day, but cold as a witch's tit at night, and soon Isabella was shivering. He'd only been able to gather a scant amount of wood, forcing them to keep the fire small. Ward knew it would only get colder as the night wore on and he also knew there was only one way for them both to stay warm. They needed to share their body heat. He racked his brain for a way to bring up the delicate subject without Isabella getting all defensive over it. He was saved the trouble when her voice suddenly broke the quiet night air.

"Eddie, I'm still so cold." Her eyes met his for a moment before they darted back to watch the dancing firelight. She continued, "There's only one way for us both to stay warm." She paused again, swallowing and nodding her head slightly. "We're gonna have to co..cozy up and keep each other warm." Her teeth chattered together as another shiver rattled her small body.

Ward's heart skipped a beat as she finished, and he saw her turn her head away from him to gaze out toward the creek.

He cleared his throat and answered her. "I reckon that's so." He tried to sound nonchalant and matter of fact about it, while all the time his stomach was turning flip-flops at the thought of holding her in his arms again.

Ward busied himself by looking around the cave as he tried to think of what to say next and then finally continued. "The best thing would be to stay to the back of the cave, keeping the fire between us and the outside." He stood up and walked to her side. "I think… maybe… I should just sit behind you… like so," he said as he lowered himself behind her, seating himself so that she rested between his legs as he leaned against the cave wall.

Without being instructed, Isabella moved to a more comfortable position and draped her skirts over his legs as they lay stretched out on either side of her then she leaned back until her shoulders were touching his chest.

Isabella had to close her eyes as the feel of his hard chest against her back flowed through her. She had never been this close to a man before, not in this way and definitely not with a man that she found so overpoweringly attractive. She inhaled slowly through her mouth, trying to calm her clamoring nerves and had nearly succeeded when Ward's arms snaked their way around her waist, pulling her tighter against his chest and pressing very close to her nearly heaving bosom.

Ward had never felt anything so soft in his life as he did when he put his arms around Bella Swan and pulled her close. He could feel the stays of her corset as he tightened his arms around her, which was curiously and more than a bit disturbingly arousing. He had to concentrate on taking small, shallow breaths and try to calm his runaway heartbeat while at the same time being very much aware of her heart beating just as erratically under his arm. She fidgeted and turned slightly and something occurred to Ward. He stuffed his lusty feelings back down and tried to think of the most tactful way to say what was on his mind.

"Uh...Bella?" he whispered.

"Hmmm?" She asked sleepily. He shifted slightly behind her, trying to address this as delicately as possible considering how sensitive she was, but really, there was no way that one or both of them was going to survive his next question without blushing.

"Do you want to...uh...maybe you'd be more comfortable if youtookyourcorsetoff," he finished in a rush. He cursed in his mind when he felt her body stiffen beneath his arms.

"Um..."

"You don't have to I just thought...heck I never wore one, but I can't imagine they're very comfortable to wear all day let alone to sleep in. Never mind. It ain't my place to tell you how to wear your unmentionables. I'm gonna shut up now."

She giggled a bit and sat up tall turning her head over her shoulder, but not looking directly at him. "No, you're right. They aren't the most comfortable thing to wear, but I don't keep mine laced too tightly, and going without one, well, it's more than a little bit appealing." She could feel the pink stain rush up her face just at the thought of being so unbound in his presence. "Do you mind turning around?"

"Uh, sure. No problem." She scooted forward and allowed him to remove his legs from around her.

"And close your eyes!" He chuckled at her added demand, but complied.

Once he was turned away from her she unbuttoned the bodice of her dress and reached inside to unhook the sturdy clasps of the corset. She pulled the constricting garment from her and tossed it to the side, quickly re-buttoning her dress. She carefully crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"All done?" he asked, a faint wobble in his voice.

"Yes. I'm finished," she answered softly.

He turned back around and resumed their previous position and was immediately struck by the feeling of the soft curves of the undersides of her breasts as they brushed against his arms. She inhaled deeply—which did nothing to help divert his attention—and sighed.

"Better?" he questioned.

"Much. Thank you." She relaxed against his chest and closed her eyes relishing the feel of his arms around her unbound torso. Had she not been so sore and exhausted, she might've been carried away by the deliciously unfamiliar feelings that were zinging through her body.

Ward was also reminded of his recent injuries as she pressed further into the warmth of his embrace. He bit back the hiss of pain that wanted to escape his lips and looked down over the top of her head.

Even like this, with her hair a tangled mess and her dress streaked with dirt, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And she fit perfectly in his arms.

Isabella slowly placed her arms across his as they crisscrossed her waist, feeling again the tingle when their flesh touched. The tingle was soon replaced by soothing warmth and she felt safe. She thought for a moment how funny that statement was considering the day she'd had. But even with all the danger she had been in today, she still felt safe in his arms. This was her Eddie. He would always protect her. And with that final thought, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

Ward tightened his arms around her tiny waist as her head rested against his shoulder and her even breathing told him she was asleep. He felt the warmth emanating from her body as she lay, soft and defenseless, against his chest. His mind wandered through all the things that had happened since he had awakened in that bunkhouse at the Valle Verde. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He had certainly lived a lifetime of danger with this petite stick of dynamite he now held in his arms. Bella Swan! Crazy Izzy was Bella Swan, the perfect little girl from his childhood. And just as he had when they were children, he felt protective of her. In fact, he knew he would give up his life in a heartbeat to save her. The strength of the feeling hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. Nothing or no one would ever harm a hair on her head as long as he had breath in his body.

And with that thought still resonating through him, Ward slept.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Belly: Hey, Melly, the snow finally stopped here.**

**Melly: Hey Belly, that's good news, It's still going into the sixties here in the desert..**

**Belly: We still have plenty on the ground. You want me to ship you some?**

**Melly: Naw, I'm good. Besides I think our favorite couple just turned up the heat in the desert. So it would just melt away.**

**Belly: They are hot together, aren't they? So do you think our readers enjoyed our little cuddling time by the fire?**

**Melly: I know I did. It's time to turn up the UST. Maybe they'll let us know if we ask nicely.**

**Belly: And if they want to know what happens the next morning! And maybe a "dream" outtake? I think I would love to write that!**

**Melly: For now, how about we invite our readers to dream of Westward.**

**Belly and Melly: ** sigh ****

**Sweetthunder: * rolls her eyes ***


	9. Awakening

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. We hope you enjoy this chapter as much as we enjoy bringing it to you. This is the morning after, and what a delicious morning after it is. **

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope all you guys do too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 9 - Awakening**

"Is it done?" Arrow demanded of Hank and Rufus. It was obvious to anyone observing they were covered with dust and weary from the long ride back to the _Valle Verde. _ Arrow also noticed they were conspicuously short one companion.

"Yeah, it's done," Hank sighed dejectedly. The two hired hands hopped down from the wagon seat and began unhitching Captain from the harness.

"Where's Dunbar?" Cassius asked, stepping out onto the porch, leaning casually against one of the posts. Though it seemed he had already guessed the answer.

"Dead."

"What do you mean dead?" Arrow growled menacingly. He really didn't want to have to find a new man to run the help.

"Jes' what I said. He's dead," Hank's retort was laced with accusation as he glared at Rufus. Rufus, at least, had the good sense to look abashed.

"What happened?" Arrow's angry glare narrowed in on Rufus who was busy trying to look as invisible as he could.

"We was just a finishin' stringin'em up like you said, and somehow Masen come to and grabbed James' pistol and was making like he was gonna shoot. So I took a shot and was aiming for Masen but somehow it caught James."

"And just where did you shoot Dunbar?" Arrow growled. Cassius on the other hand had a wicked smirk plastered across his face, almost as if to ask Arrow why he'd bothered hiring these two half-wits.

"Well, it looked like nothin' but his shoulder. Next thing he was hollerin' something awful, so we loaded him up in the wagon, but a few miles outside of town he got real quiet."

"I checked him and he was dead as a doornail," Hank piped in with a quick nod of his head.

"So we dumped him in a holler and hightailed it back here." Rufus shrugged his shoulders.

"Of all the damned fool things...You checked him? You don't have enough smarts in your head to put your shoes on the right feet, how would you know if someone is dead? You better hope you're right." Arrow wagged his finger dangerously close to Rufus' face and then stormed back into the sprawling ranch house. He wanted to gain his composure, Arrow hated looking flustered in front of his hired help. Cassius glared sharply at the two men left standing in the courtyard. His red eyes seemed to pierce them to their very souls, testing their mettle. As soon as their eyes met with his, they cast their heads down and waited fearfully until the receding footfalls indicated that Cassius had returned inside.

"You sure he was dead Hank?" Rufus asked nervously.

"I...I think so." The lack of confidence in Hank's voice was not in the least bit reassuring.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ward was having the most relaxing dream. He was sunk deeply into a plush feather bed, his head buried in soft down pillow. He curled his arm around the pillow and pulled it closer under his chin. His dream pillow began shaking and he grunted and began trying to knead the pillow back into submission. The clearing of a throat roused him from his dream and he became aware of the woman wrapped in his arms. He cracked one eye opened and noticed the comfortable, soft weight of Bella's breast in his hand.

She cleared her throat again and said, "Eddie. I need to get up." He could feel her small hands working to remove his arms from around her. "Edward," she hissed louder, "you need to let go."

He grunted and closed his eye again, the current placement of his hand not fully registering in his sleep-soaked mind. Small fingers began to pry away his hands and for a brief moment he tightened his grip. When Bella started giggling, wakefulness seeped into his brain and the implications of where his hands were lingering started clamoring at his consciousness. He was certainly not trying to take advantage of Bella; he'd just gotten very comfortable. Reluctantly, he released his grasp and they both struggled to a sitting position.

Bella scrambled up and walked a short distance away and behind a large rock. Ward squatted down and felt the coals from the small fire, hoping there was still enough warmth to spark a new blaze to life, but they were cold. No sense in starting a new fire anyway, they needed to get moving before the heat of the day caught up with them.

The purplish-gray haze of night was beginning to lift, giving way to the light of morning. Bella came back, fresh-faced and smoothing her skirt down. Her cheeks were still slightly tinged pink. She had been more than a bit surprised to feel Ward's hand enthusiastically kneading her breast and even more surprised at her body's reaction to his touch. And for some unknown reason, she couldn't contain the giggles that were caused by her nervous embarrassment.

When she sat down on one of the flat brown rocks that had sheared off of the cliffs above at some point in ancient history, she kept her gaze pointedly turned away, not wanting to meet his eyes. An awkward sort of tension was humming between them. Ward had returned to sit in the same place he'd been when they woke, staring blankly into the ashes of their fire.

As he leaned forward again to poke a stick at the small pile of burnt wood and ash, a sort of resolve settled over him. He hopped up to his feet and gave a loud groan as he stretched his arms high above his head. When he dropped his arms, Bella was still stubbornly avoiding looking at him. He hadn't planned on getting handsy with her, but how could you blame _any_ warm blooded male when he had a beautiful woman in his arms.

He'd struggled with that fact, trying to reconcile the woman Bella had become with the girl she once was. With a sigh and another stretch he silently offered his hand to help Bella stand. Her own hand was tentative as she grasped onto his. When her eyes slowly rose to meet his, Ward managed to catch her gaze for just a moment and smiled sheepishly. Her cheeks bloomed rosy red and she looked down quickly, studying her swaddled feet intently. He was surprised when he could feel a blush heating up his own cheeks. Ward had very little to blush over anymore but he had never been in this situation before. Apparently they were going to pretend like nothing had happened.

"So which direction do we go from here?" He asked softly.

Bella studied their surroundings and tried to center her feelings. It was difficult to block out the feelings invoked by Ward's proximity. Every time she'd move away from him in an attempt to clear her head, he would follow, matching her step for step. She turned abruptly and landed with her nose nearly buried in his chest. She took a deep breath, enjoying the musky scent that lingered on his shirt, before stepping back.

"You stay! I need a little bit of space please." She didn't mean for her voice to sound so cross, but when he was this close, she couldn't think straight, she could barely keep her knees from giving out.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was interferin' with your magic." He held his hands up and walked slowly backward, a playful smirk on his face.

"It's not magic," Bella grumbled as she strode away, moving closer to the stream they'd come to the night before.

She knelt by the bank and scooped her hand into the chilly water, letting it dribble slowly through her fingertips. Again, she tried to center her feelings, but wasn't having much luck. She growled in frustration, earning a chuckle from Ward who had been watching her intently from a short distance away. She turned her back on him in frustration still kneeling by the water.

"I'm not getting any kind of feeling at all. I don't know which direction to go." She suddenly felt a ripple of gooseflesh erupt over her skin and that tense thrum in the air that only ever came when he was near.

"You sure you're not feeling anything?" His voice was low and husky and right in her ear. She jumped a little and her breath caught in her throat when she realized he was squatted down right behind her. She felt his warm hand cup her shoulder and travel slowly down her arm. She spun around abruptly, nearly toppling backward into the creek. She would have surely ended up soaked once again if she hadn't grabbed on to Ward's shoulder as she felt his right hand grip her waist.

Slowly her eyes made the foray up his perfectly sculpted body. The opening at the neck of the buckskin shirt allowed her a glimpse of the light dusting of hair at the top of his chest causing her fingers to itch with an irrational desire to caress his skin. Her eyes continued their journey, wandering over the sun-kissed skin of his neck and up to the hair-roughened angles of his strong jaw. When she reached the full curve of his lower lip, she paused, unable to keep her tongue from moving to wet her own suddenly dry lips. Their noses were nearly touching, and she could feel the movement of his breath as it bathed her face with its warmth. She noticed that both their breaths were coming in shortened pants. "I...I meant about which way..." she couldn't continue, the words lodging in her throat as her eyes finally met his dark green gaze.

"I know what you meant," he cut her off and pulled her forward so that she was on her knees instead of resting unbalanced on her haunches. As he knelt in front of her he brought his left hand to her shoulder and slowly stroked it with the tip of his thumb. "I'm sorry about the way we woke up. It was ungentlemanly of me and it won't happen again."

Her dark brown eyes widened just a bit and with a touch of disappointment in her voice she asked, "It won't?" Ward cocked and eyebrow and a lazy smile curled onto his lips.

"Would you want it to?"

"No! Yes...I mean… I don't know? I guess I was just surprised is all..." Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and her eyes found a small pebble on the ground between them that suddenly became exceedingly more interesting to her than Ward's face.

Mixed emotions warred within him. On the one hand she was still his childhood friend and he felt like her protector, but on the other he couldn't ignore the woman she'd grown into, or the feelings she stirred up in him even before he knew who she was and he didn't know how to protect her from himself. Now, more than anything in his life, he wanted to kiss her.

Gently he lifted her chin with his finger, but she still wouldn't look at him. She had almost no experience with the strange new feelings of longing--not just any longing, she'd felt that before, but longing for the touch of a man –and need that were pulsating through her body. She couldn't bear to look into Ward's face and see pity or mocking in his eyes.

"Hey," he called softly.

She shook her head and started pulling back. If a large black hole had opened up between them she would have gladly jumped in without a second thought. His right arm tightened around her while his left thumb stroked the apple of her cheek, branding it with his soft touch.

He dipped his head lower stroking the side of her nose with his, their lips nearly touching as their breaths mingled in shallow puffs.

"If you don't want this tell me to stop," he whispered softly.

His warm breath fanned across her cheek sending a new wave of tingles down her neck. She closed her eyes and relished the newly familiar sensation. With only her instincts to go on, she licked her lips again and lifted her face just slightly whispering, "Don't stop."

Those two words charged the air and sent Ward's heart to racing. When had a woman ever had this kind of effect on him?

He moved his left hand to the back of her neck and tangled his fingers loosely into her long, wild, mane of hair, as he pulled her closer to him. Her fingers gripped his shoulders as if she were holding on for dear life. Cautiously, he brushed his lips over hers, feeling the moistness. He covered her mouth more fully with his own, gently sucking and savoring. She was fairly trembling and they were both kneeling at an awkward angle, making it difficult to properly enjoy the embrace.

He wrapped his right arm more firmly around her back and pulled them to kneel up tall, and consequently closer together. Bella gasped slightly at the sensation of their bodies touching from lips to knees. She snaked her hands under his arms and curled them up around the back of his shoulders anchoring them together. They pulled apart briefly and she kept her eyes shut. Ward softly whispered "Bella, don't be afraid, I'm not going anywhere." She slowly fluttered her eyes open.

His emerald green gaze was ablaze with desire, which caused a rush of...well of something, though Bella had no idea what to call it, but she was very much overtaken by all of these new feelings coursing through her like a river after the rain.

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. She'd just been kissed. For the first time. By her Eddie. He returned the smile and they both dove back together with enthusiasm, their hands roaming over each other's back. Ward teased the seam of her lips with his tongue, coaxing them apart. They both groaned in mutual satisfaction when she opened her mouth slightly, letting her own tentatively searching tongue meet his.

Bella thrilled at the waves of pleasure that coursed down her spine, but at the same time, she experienced a feeling of safety in Edward's embrace. She was holding on to his shirt with both fists, nearly dying for air but not wanting this kiss to end. She was only just starting to be aware of the rough prickle of his stubbly beard on her chin and cheeks. They broke apart, both gasping for breath.

After a few moments, she relaxed her grip on his shirt and he dropped his hand from her hair. She leaned up against his broad chest and tried desperately to get her heart beat under control. He hugged her close to his chest as he absently stroked her hair.

"Would it scare you terribly if I said that I plan on doing that again?" he asked in a rough, almost breathless voice.

"It would scare me if you didn't," she replied, her voice equally husky. She leaned her head up and looked into his smiling eyes.

"You were always in here," Ward said, resting his left hand briefly over his heart. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you." Somehow Bella had been able to pull back the curtain that the real Edward Cullen had been hiding behind; that hardened mask of a gunfighter. Ward realized he hadn't been this vulnerable since the last time he saw Bella and her family leave Philadelphia.

Bella ducked her head down and took a deep breath. "I was so mad at you, for the longest time. You never wrote. It was like you just disappeared. What happened?"

Ward's brow pinched together for an instant before he shook his head slightly. Somehow he managed to rearrange his features into that of the aloof, stony, gunslinger. "Not now," he muttered as he loosened his arms and slid his hand down to twine his fingers together with hers. She gave a slight nod of understanding, to which he was grateful.

He looked up and down the river and then back into Bella's eyes before asking, "Which way?" She took a deep breath and lifted her head. To a stranger, she looked like she was worshiping the sun, but Ward knew she was trying to feel whatever mystical connection she had with the earth.

Her brow furrowed and her lips pulled down into a frown as she shook her head. "I still can't get any sense of which way to go. I suppose we'd better just follow the stream. At least until I can get a better feeling."

"I guess that's the best plan we got huh?" he quipped and waited for Bella to make a move one way or the other. Hesitantly she began walking northward along the bank of the creek and Ward quickly fell into step beside her.

They were quiet for some time, just enjoying one another's presence, their fingers linked comfortably. Bella was still curious about his past, but was content to remain silent until he was ready to tell his story.

After what seemed like hours he spoke. His gaze was fixed firmly to the front, avoiding her eyes completely. "I couldn't wait to join the army," his voice was quiet but clearly discernible in the hush of the cool morning air. He paused while cutting a glance in her direction before taking a deep breath and continuing. "My father insisted that I finish all my schooling and Mother was adamantly opposed to my joining in the war. But there was nothing they could do when I turned eighteen. That very day, I joined up and left within the week. I'd only been enlisted for two weeks when General Meade's Army of the Potomac engaged Lee at Gettysburg."

Ward paused again, swallowing thickly as he gathered his thoughts before resuming with a small shake of his head.

"It was nothing like I'd imagined. I was so foolish. I thought of nothing but the glory and honor of fighting for the right. I never once stopped to think about the suffocating smoke, the chaos of broken defenses, the blood. So much blood!" His voice faltered for a moment, but Bella didn't interrupt, allowing him to compose himself and continue. "The fields were red with all of the blood spilt. The worst though was at night, listening to all of the injured men crying out and knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."

Bella blinked through the tears that had welled up in her eyes and were now freely streaming down her face as she listened to his heart wrenching words. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and looked up at him with genuine concern in her eyes. With another sideways look he saw the tears and halted their walking to raise his free hand and brush them away with his thumb. He made a halfhearted attempt at a smile but didn't quite succeed. With another deep breath, he quickly turned his face back to the front and they resumed walking.

"My commanding officer noticed my accuracy with a rifle and sent me to the sharpshooters' regiment. We hid in the trees and other strategic points and picked off as many Gray's as we could. After Gettysburg, we were sent wherever we were needed. It's hard to explain…when you target a man and shoot him; you see him die and you know it was you who did it. It was just different…

"I followed orders and did what I was told and somehow managed to survive. After Lee's surrender at Appomattox, I stayed involved until the final skirmishes were extinguished and then I returned back to Philly."

They walked quietly for a little while longer, passing by the prickly pears and saguaro that dotted the relatively barren landscape. The sun was rising higher in the sky, rapidly heating the air and starting to beat down oppressively on the weary travelers.

They had been silent for some time when Bella asked softly and a bit plaintively, "Did you receive any of the letters I sent you?" She had missed her friend so much in those early years after her family moved.

"One or two," he murmured. "I sent one letter back, but I guess you never got it?" She shook her head no but didn't look up at him, so he continued, "We had to move several times. After your family left to head west, my father's business endeavors all went belly up. I could never understand why he kept getting drawn in to these ridiculous schemes. He was always a better caretaker than a businessman. At any rate, he lost just about everything. When Mother died, he just quit living. That's what I came home to: A broken shell of a man living in squalor. It took me nearly a week to track him down after I arrived in Philly."

Ward finally allowed himself to look fully at Bella and noticed at once that she was near exhaustion. Because of their conversation, he had completely ignored the fact that they had been walking constantly for at least two hours. Spying some shade by the creek up ahead, Ward tugged them to a spot under a mesquite tree and plopped himself down pulling her down beside him. He took one of Bella's feet in his lap and began unwinding the strips of cloth that had been protecting them. Once both of their feet were unbound they moved to the edge of the creek and submerged their sore limbs into the cool water.

"Ahhh that feels divine," Bella sighed as she leaned back on her hands and closed her eyes.

"Mhmm," he agreed, looking up through the feathery leaves of the tree they were under. He turned his head to watch her as she reveled in the refreshing feel of the cool water. Ward had to tamp down the natural reaction of his body to her innocent beauty and instead forced his eyes away as he finished his story. "Father died not long after I had returned from the war. I sold everything to settle his debts and used what was left to make my way out west. The news of gold and silver was still enticing, as was the idea of all the free land they were divvying up. I just wanted to live a normal life. Make my own way."

"So what happened?" Bella asked as she turned her head, opened her eyes and looked over at him. "Why aren't you a farmer somewhere in the plains with a wife and half a dozen littlun's nippin' at your ankles?"

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he bobbed his foot closer to hers, brushing his shoulder against hers. "I guess I made quite a name for myself in the army and word of my handiness with a firearm preceded me west. As soon as people knew who I was, I was being hired by lawmen needing extra hands in a posse, or private land owners needing coyotes shot. The money was liquid and the lifestyle became easy. I guess I'd gotten used to moving around and found myself getting restless if I stayed in one place for too long, which doesn't make settling down with a wife very likely."

She leaned her head lightly on his shoulder, keeping her face turned away from him so he wouldn't see the disappointment in her eyes that his words caused. She wondered for a moment what it would take to make him change his mind about settling down, but instead of saying anything, she decided to just enjoy the sensation of the cool stream licking at her toes. She liked even better the way his foot was beginning to tangle with hers. She had just closed her eyes to enjoy the shivers moving up her leg when she felt the gentle pressure of his fingers on her chin. Her eyes flashed open and looked up questioningly into his. They were dark and fathomless in the shade of the tree and suddenly her chest tightened as her body reacted to his blatant invitation. She answered his unspoken question with a small smile and a minute tilt of her head. "Edward," she breathed softly.

As his lips closed over hers, Ward thought that he might have died and gone to heaven. Never had the kisses of a woman been so completely...necessary to his existence. He'd never felt this kind of feeling with any other woman before. When had he become such a sentimental softy?

Her lips worked slowly under his and they both sighed at the natural conclusion of the kiss. He drew his arm around her shoulders pulling her close and she rested her head comfortably on his chest.

Bella was quite enjoying the calm assurance of his embrace when a thought flitted through her mind.

"So tell me what is with this whole 'Ward Masen' business."

"Humph. Let's just say I had to change my name after an unpleasant encounter in Phoenix."

He didn't elaborate and began lowering his head to kiss his Bella again when the unmistakable _clip-clop_ of horses echoed in the distance.

"Get down," Ward hissed as they both sunk low to the ground. He peeked over the top of one of the rocks that lined the edge of the water and observed the Native for a while. He was riding a painted horse with no saddle, and led another by a rope some distance behind him. He wore a serious but serene expression on his face, his eyes scanning up and down the banks of the creek. Bella pressed into Ward's back trying to peer over his shoulder, but she inadvertently jabbed one of his broken ribs causing a pain-filled gasp to hiss from his mouth. Instantly the formidably sized native focused his scanning eyes on the very rock behind which they hid.

Bella narrowed her eyes and then popped her head up like a prairie dog and began waving her arms. "Bella!" Ward whispered urgently, "get down!"

"But it's Jacob! He's here to help us!" She stood and began running up stream to meet the pair of horses and the brown skinned man that had hopped off the pinto and was rushing to a similar goal.

"Bells! You're alive!" He swept her up and swung her around in a circle before setting her down. Ward couldn't help the flare of jealousy as the shirtless man engulfed Bella in a giant bear hug. He got up from his spot on the bank and joined the pair a few yards upstream.

Jacob looked over Ward and Bella's worn and tattered appearance, noticed the bruises on Ward's face from the beating he'd endured at the hands of the Valentines and said, "You two don't look so good."

Ward set his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. Bella pushed the Indian's shoulder and responded with a light chuckle. "You try being hung upside down by your feet for half a day and see how you look."

"Nah, I can live without that experience," he grinned, his shining white teeth flashing in the sun before he focused his attention on Ward. "Hey, nice skins. Look like Yavapai?"

Ward looked down at his buckskin garments and fingered the fringe of the pants. He relaxed some when Bella took up a position closer to his side, then he looked back up at Jacob. It wasn't lost on Ward that the younger man stood a good four or five inches taller than his own six-foot-two.

"I stayed for a while with the Apache, did some trading with the Yavapai."

Jacob grunted in approval then added, "They do good work, but nothing's better than Hualapai." He grinned broadly and winked. Ward bristled a bit at the joviality and kept his gunfighter's mask on. If Jacob noticed the coolness of Ward's demeanor, he didn't let on as he continued. "You know you're not too far from my village yeah?"

"How far is 'not too far'?" asked Bella.

"You mean you can't tell?" Jacob couldn't hide his surprise at her question. "How did you know you were going the right way?"

"A better question is how did you know where to come find us?" Bella asked.

A good question indeed, Ward thought; he had been suspicious of just the same thing.

"Climb up and I'll tell you on the way back. We can probably make it by night fall." Jacob mounted his pinto and fished in his leather sack for a couple of corn cakes and dried meat. Ward swung up on to the second horse and reached down to help pull Bella up behind him. She sat comfortably astride the back of the horse, her skirt covering the rear, and wrapped her arms loosely around his middle as they set off.

Ward gratefully took the offered fare from Jacob and passed some back to Bella, who groaned at the first bite. They kept the horses at a slow walk side by side while they ate. Once they'd gobbled up the food, Bella turned her head to Jacob and asked again. "So how did you find us?"

"I went to your house and Captain was gone, so I went to town but no one had seen you. I asked the Sheriff if he knew of anything happening, and he quietly suggested that I go check out by ghost tree." He shrugged and turned his head back to the trail.

Of course there was an obvious trail just 20 yards away from where they had been walking. Ward mentally kicked himself for not being more thorough in his scouting.

"How on earth did Cheney know to check way the heck out by ghost tree?" Bella mused.

"He has eyes and ears everywhere," Jacob replied, offering no other explanation than that as he kicked his horse into a trot. Ward did the same.

The ride was long, hot, dusty, and jarring. Bella rested her head gently between his shoulder blades, her body pressed closely to his back, and dozed every so often.

Ward couldn't help but be extremely aware of the woman whose arms and legs were wrapped around behind him, the way her body molded itself to his, the way they just seemed to fit together. He realized that she had not put her corset back on as he felt her soft breasts press against his back and he silently reveled in the feel of her. He forced his mind away from her as he felt his body reacting to his less than gentlemanly thoughts, and wondered instead about what might happen when they returned to Devil's Fork. There was much unfinished business. He certainly couldn't stay there no matter how much he wanted to. But try as he might, his mind couldn't contemplate leaving Bella behind. The question was would she go with him?

They had taken up a riding position just behind and to the side of Jacob's horse. Dusk was setting in and the sky was streaking purple and orange, a few stars were just started to sparkle when Jacob slowed his horse and spoke over his shoulder.

"Just around the next bend, we'll be able to see the village. My father can see to your wounds when we get there." Ward held on to the reins with one hand and patted Bella's clasped hands with the other.

"Edward?" Bella's voice whispered over the back of his neck sending a delicious tingle down his spine.

"Hmm?"

"There's something you should know."

"What's that darlin'?" He was peering over his shoulder trying to make eye contact with her. As he glanced into her face, he noticed that her gaze was now focused beyond him. Ward turned his head back and looked in the direction of her eyes. He saw smoke billowing over the rise ahead.

"Jacob? Are the Elders making a bonfire tonight?" Bella's question was left unanswered as Jacob, too, noticed the smoke and drove his heel into the side of his pinto, coaxing it into a neck-or-nothing gallop. Ward did the same and drew up short as Jacob stopped suddenly at the top of the rise. Ward looked down into the valley around the bend and his stomach bottomed out, as he and Bella heard Jacob's anguished shout.

"Oh no, no. NO!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**A/N:**

**Melly: So, Hey there Belly.**

**Belly: Hey, sugar. I'm still buried under snow. Send me some sunshine… Please!**

**Melly: I would, but we don't have enough extra to spread around.**

**Belly: I hear where you're coming from. *Hehe… I said coming…* Sorry, I'll behave.**

**Melly: *bad girl* So, it's been awhile. My bad.**

**Belly: Real life has been getting us both down. But this chapter was so worth the wait.**

**Melly: Ain't that the truth. And this chapter was a deliciously juicy one. **

**Belly: Imagine sleeping in Ward's arms all night. I wouldn't mind trading places with Bella.**

**Melly: I think it's safe to say we'll ALL be having sweet dreams of Westward tonight.**

**Melly and Belly: *sigh***


	10. Smoldering

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. We really hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as we are enjoying writing it. Ward and Izzy OWN us. Ward is such a He-Man – Oh, my! **

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope all you guys do too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Marksman

Chapter 10 – Smoldering

Jake kicked his pinto into a panicked gallop as he headed down the hill towards the still smoldering embers that was once his village. Ward and Bella were close behind. Jake drew up the reins slightly and jumped from his pony before it came to a full stop, continuing at a full run toward the nearest of the blackened dwellings.

He paused briefly to search the interior as best he could through the smoke and burning timbers before running to the next dwelling. His voice began to call random names as he ran, frantically searching for survivors. Ward and Bella followed at a slower pace, Ward taking extra time to scan each hut with a practiced eye.

He saw no bodies. Thank God!

"Jake!" he called, running now to catch up with the younger man, moving an hand to catch his arm and halt his aimless wandering. "Jake, I don't see any bodies. I think most of your people escaped."

Jake turned terrified eyes to look at Ward, seeking reassurance that what he heard was true.

"You didn't see any … bodies?" Jake asked brokenly.

Ward gave a quick shake of his head. "No, they must have escaped. Do you have any idea where they would go?"

Jake stared at the ground for a moment to gather his thoughts. He had been frightened nearly out of his mind at the sight of the burning village. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to meet Ward's and gave a brief nod.

"Yes, I know where they are. There is a place in the forest, that way," he inclined his head to the wooded area across the creek, beyond the settlement. "There is a clearing in the center where we gather when the hunting party returns. I think they will be there."

He was trying to sound optimistic, but Ward and Bella could still see the worry in his eyes. They watched as he dropped his head into his hands, lacing his finger through the hair on his scalp.

"Who would do this? What could possibly be gained by this…" he searched for the right word, "destruction?" He allowed his gaze to wander over the charred and still burning remains before he closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "We have no more enemies among the tribes or the white man. We have worked so hard to make peace with both worlds." Jake looked at Edward with glassy eyes, on the verge of angry tears. "Why won't the white man just leave us alone!" Though the words cut Bella to the quick, she understood they were coming from his fresh anger and not directed to her.

Ward cut his eyes toward Bella, asking her silently to keep quiet for now, knowing the young man before them was near the breaking point already. There would be plenty of time to tell him of the vengeance plotted by the Valentine brothers after he had had a chance to calm down. The most important thing now was to find the rest of the tribe.

Ward's voice was low as he spoke. "Let's see if we can find your people, okay? You lead the way and we'll follow."

Jake opened his eyes and trained them once again on the gunslinger. "How did they know to attack now? How?" The question was rhetorical, as he continued, "All the men are on a hunting party, only my father and the other Elders were here. What kind of a coward attacks old men, women, and children?"

Ward's eyes narrowed at this new information, and his hope for finding survivors just dipped a little.

"So there was no one other than the Elders to fight the attackers?"

Jake shook his head and answered, "Only myself and Sam stayed behind. I stayed because I found Isabella missing and went to search for her, and Sam stayed because his wife, Emily, is heavy with child." His eyes looked imploring from Ward to Bella. "There was no reason to fear an attack. No reason!"

His voice raised as panic threatened to once again overpower him. Bella spoke up, "it's okay, Jake, no one could have seen this comin'. It's not your fault you weren't here. You were bein' a good friend to me." She moved before him and wrapped her arms around his torso. "Jake, I thank you for comin' for me. You're my best friend and I love you for it."

Ward watched as Bella wrapped Jake in her arms and cradled this man that was almost twice her size with a tenderness only someone who loves unconditionally can offer. Jake wept softly into her neck as she stroked his hair. Ward felt no jealously toward the young man, knowing that he needed the comfort that only a friend could give. Ward turned away and walked to the horses, taking his time to gather the reins before leading them across the compound. He moved slowly in order to give the friends some privacy. When he heard Jake sniff and saw him pull away from Bella as she gently wiped the tears from his checks, he moved over to them.

Jake was grateful for the older man's consideration as he turned his head away to pull himself together. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before facing him.

Jake was relieved when Ward acted as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "Jake, can you lead the way?" he asked as he inclined his head toward the forest behind the village.

"Sure, sure. It's this way." Jake grabbed the reins of his pinto from Ward's outstretched hand and leaped onto the horse's back in one smooth motion. Ward mounted too and reached down to help Bella up and then turned the horse in the direction Jake was heading. Ward turned his head back just in time to see a burning timber collapse into a hissing pile of sparks and ash. Anger towards the Valentines and their cutthroat methods churned low in his gut. He fumed silently as they followed after Jacob.

Darkness continued to fall as they crossed the shallow creek and continued along a well-worn path that disappeared into the stand of trees. They rode only a few hundred feet when Jake drew up and scanned the area around them in the dim light of the early rising moon. He turned and threw over his shoulder, "They came this way not too long ago."

The optimism in his voice was hard to disguise and Ward heard a soft "Thank God," issue from Bella's mouth as they continued down the path.

Within five minutes, they approached a thinning in the trees. Jake stopped and whistled into the night. An answering whistle rang through the stillness, and Jake urged his pony through the last of the trees and into a clearing. Ward could see several makeshift shelters that housed the inhabitants of the village, they had no cooking fires set up as they were trying to remain hidden from their previous attackers. Jake leapt from his horse and was met in the middle of the grassy clearing by an equally big, but somewhat older, man dressed in traditional Hualapai clothing. The moon continued to climb in the sky, lighting the area with its pale glow.

"Sam, what happened? Who attacked us?" Jake spoke in his native language, but Ward and Bella were able to translate based on his body language.

Sam glanced beyond Jake, giving Bella a kind look, before turning his eyes warily on the stranger. Jake, following his gaze, made quick introductions in English.

"Sam, this is Ward Masen. He's a friend of Bella's. I found them just this side of Ghost Tree where they had been strung up and left for dead by the Valentines."

Sam's eyes flashed at the name Valentines and he didn't try to disguise his disgust as he approached Ward, stretching out his hand in greeting and speaking in broken English. "You are welcome here. The Valentines are bad men. They attacked and burned our village."

At those words, Jake began speaking rapidly in his native tongue, much too fast for Bella, who had learned a smattering of the language from Jake, to follow. But again, she and Ward were able to understand the gist of the conversation just from mix of emotions that were practically rolling off the two men.

As their exchange began to wind down, they saw Sam gesturing toward Bella and back to a make-shift enclosure to the far left of the clearing. Several women were standing outside.

Jake nodded his head and turned back to Ward and Bella, explaining quickly. "Our village was attacked by the Valentine brothers and their men. They came by and asked my father and the Elders once again to sell the land. When my father refused, they held them at gunpoint and proceeded to burn the village. Luckily, most of the women and children were already here, preparing for the return of the hunting party. When Sam overheard the Valentine brothers arguing with my father, he was able to get the few remaining women, his wife included, across the creek and to safety before the destruction began. Unfortunately, he got back too late to save the Elders. He returned to see the village in flames and the Valentines ride off, taking my father and the other three Elders as prisoners. He couldn't leave the women and children unprotected to go search for them. Besides, his wife will soon give birth." He turned to Bella, reaching out to clasp her hands. "She's having a hard time of it, Bells. I know you have a special way with animals at times like this. Would you be willing to see if you can help Emily?"

Bella swallowed convulsively. She knew nothing about women giving birth. Her mother had died when she was so young, and she had learned only the bare minimum about the workings of a woman's body from her friend Alice and Alice's mother. She raised her scared eyes to Jake and started to protest, but he stopped her. "Please, Bells, she may die."

The solemn tone of his voice brought her up short. She steeled herself and nodded her head. She figured it couldn't be that much different than when the livestock gave birth. She would do what she could.

At her nod, Sam smiled gratefully and led her in the direction of the canvas covered shelter where the women stood. He spoke quickly and quietly to one of the women, gesturing toward Bella, while the woman eyed her speculatively, before she nodded and pulled Bella toward the entrance and inside. Sam turned and rejoined Ward and Jake, the worried look on his face keeping them silent for the moment.

Bella spoke quietly to the two women who were seated on either side of the obviously laboring woman lying on a bed of leather skins on the ground. She knew they didn't understand her words, but they recognized the inquiring tone of her voice. In the glow of the small fire, Emily raised her tired eyes, so full of pain and fear, and looked straight at Bella. Without further thought, Bella knelt by her side and reached her hands toward the woman's distended abdomen. Raising her eyebrows in silent question, Bella waited for Emily to give her permission to touch her. At her barely perceptible nod, Bella's hands lowered to lightly touch her belly. The other women reached for her hands and shook their heads as though they already knew something horrible and inevitable was happening. Bella pulled away and reached back for Emily. If she could do something good in the middle of all this tragedy, she would.

Bella closed her eyes, concentrating with all her might, drawing upon her ability to become attuned to her natural surroundings. She prayed silently that her gift wouldn't desert her again as it had by the stream in the desert. As she kept her eyes tightly closed, she began to feel the familiar tingling move through her body, channeling the energy into her hands and then into the body of pregnant woman. Almost at once, Emily's breathing became easier and the tension left her limbs. Bella could sense that the delivery wasn't progressing as quickly as it should and it was fast wearing out the young woman.

Bella continued to channel relaxing energy into Emily, slowly brushing her fingertips across the woman's forehead and down her face. Over and over she did this, slowly running her hands down Emily's arms. After several minutes of her ministrations, Bella could feel a change take place. Suddenly her body was cooperating with the labor pains instead of working against nature. Bella felt her abdomen and could feel what she thought was a foot in the wrong place. While Emily continued to breath slow and deep Bella began massaging and pushing on her belly. The more calm Emily was, the more Bella could feel the baby relax and she was able to help it twist in the right direction. Within minutes, Emily's body was completely ready for delivery and the pain was manageable. Emily said something to the eldest of the women seated in complete silence at her side, and they quickly raised her up into a semi-sitting position to allow her to push. The older woman moved over, allowing Bella to take her place, as she quickly took the midwife's stance for the delivery. Two minutes later, the robust cries of Emily and Sam's newborn son rang out through the clearing.

The sound of the baby's cries seemed to snap the men out of their worried silence, as Sam raced off toward the birthing tent leaving Jake alone with Ward. The younger man turned, arms akimbo, and faced the gunfighter, speaking in a low tone, "Now, why don't you explain to me how you know Bella."

Ward studied Jake with a practiced eye and wondered just how much to tell him. Then he remembered how much Bella trusted this man and that they now had a mutual enemy. He realized that they would have a much better chance of defeating the Valentines by working together, but only if they trusted each other. Ward was smart enough to understand that the best way to garner trust was to give it, so taking a deep breath, he began his story.

Thirty minutes later Bella was back outside, standing at Ward's side, while Sam was enjoying his first meeting with his son. Jake related Sam and Emily's gratitude, along with thanks from the midwife; she had never seen someone able to move the baby that way before. Bella couldn't hold back the tears as she realized what she had been able to do for Emily. It was the first time her gift had been used to alleviate someone's pain. She felt overwhelmed for a moment.

Ward placed his hand discreetly at the small of her back, rubbing softly and letting her know he was there without embarrassing her in front of the people around them. Bella was grateful for his understanding and gave him a watery smile as she looked up at him through her spiky lashes. He smiled back before turning once more to talk to Jake. She noticed that they seemed much more at ease with each other and could see that Jake was listening intently to what Ward was saying.

"Now that we've established that we have a mutual enemy in the Valentines, we need to devise a plan to get your Elders back. When will the hunting party return?"

"They should be back in a couple of days," Jake answered. "You both should stay here for the night. The Valentines may still be close by and it wouldn't be safe for you to travel at night."

Ward had barely noticed the creeping darkness and he knew that Isabella had to be nearing exhaustion from the adventures of the day. To be honest, he could feel the tiredness beginning to settle in his own limbs. With a glance into Bella's weary face, Ward accepted the offer for them both.

Bella was quickly set up in a lean-to with the women, while Ward was pointed to an area on the right side of the clearing. Jake called to a couple of the young boys that were gathered on the fringes of the campsite and soon the boys had built a small campfire and left Ward enough firewood for the night. The night air wasn't cold, but the fire would be welcome to keep out the late night chill. Ward was thankful and amazed at their resourcefulness when Jake also brought him a blanket.

Ward insisted that he be allowed to take a turn at watch and settled down to sleep only after Jake assured him that he would awaken him. True to his word, Jake roused Ward for his watch four hours later, and Sam relieved Ward a few hours before dawn. Thankfully, it proved to be a quiet night.

After a breakfast of roasted corn cakes, Ward and Bella took their leave of Sam and Jake.

"Let me get Isabella back to town safely and then I'll come back tonight and help you keep watch. I just need to make sure Bella's not left alone." Bella started to protest, but Ward shook his head at her and said, "Bella, the Valentines are ruthless. You saw what they did to the village. I'll feel much better if you stay with your friend in town. It's not safe for you to be alone."

Before she could say anything, Jake spoke up. "He's right, Bells. I don't want you staying by yourself either. It's not safe. Stay with Alice and Jasper; you'll be safe in town."

Bella could see she was outnumbered, and frankly, she didn't look forward to having to fight off the Valentines all by herself, again.

"Okay, just take me by my house so I can get a few things and see to my animals. Then I'll go to Alice's."

Ward heaved a sigh of relief that she wasn't putting up an argument. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her safety. With a smile of gratitude in her direction, Ward turned once more to Jake.

"Before I come back here, I'll do some advance scouting for you tonight at the Valle Verde. Besides, I have a mighty fine horse I need to rescue, along with my gear." Ward gave him a wry smile before he shook his head and continued, "Anyways, I don't think the Valentines have harmed your people, at least not yet. If they wanted them dead, they wouldn't have taken them away. I think they plan to use them to get title to this property."

"You're probably right," Jake nodded his agreement. "I'll meet you in town and come with you."

"No, Jake, you need to stay here. If the Valentines decide to come back, Sam will need help. I'll check out the situation and report back to you later tonight."

Jake could see the logic of Ward's plan and agreed.

"Okay," he said as he watched them mount their horse and head out of the makeshift camp.

They rode silently for nearly ten minutes, Bella pressed close to Ward, her arms wrapped around his middle and her head resting softly on his back. Ward was the first to break the silence.

"Did you sleep okay last night?" She felt the rumbling of his words vibrate gently on her cheek as it rested against him.

"Um-hum. How about you? Did you get any rest at all?" she asked without raising her head from its resting position.

"Some, not as good as the cave, but okay," he replied, turning slightly to give her a crooked smile over his shoulder.

She blushed to the roots of her hair as she remembered not only sleeping, but also waking up in his arms. "Yeah, that was nice," she said softly.

Nice? Was that all she could say about it? Nice? Ward glanced at her again and noticed the blush and smiled to himself. Yes, it had been quite 'nice', waking up with her body curled next to him, her softness filling his hand. Very nice, indeed.

Deciding to save her from further embarrassment, he changed the subject. "I'll see if I can't rescue Captain from the Valle Verde tonight when I get my horse, though I'm not sure if I can get the wagon; might make too much noise."

"Don't take any chances, Eddie; it's not worth you gettin' shot."

"Don't you worry about me, Darlin', I'm used to dangerous situations, getting shot at ain't nothin' but an afternoon stroll for me."

His crooked grin did nothing to alleviate Bella's fears. "Please, Eddie, promise me you won't get shot."

Ward laughed outright at her crazy request as he answered, "I have no intention of getting shot."

She bristled at his laughter, realizing he wasn't taking her fears to heart. "I'm serious, Eddie. The Valentines are ruthless, you said so yourself." She felt tears welling up in her eyes and blinked furiously to clear her vision. "I couldn't bear it if something… happened to you."

He heard the catch in her voice and the soft sob that escaped her throat and his amusement at the situation died instantly. He pulled the horse to a stop and twisted around to look at her. With one look at her fearful, tear-filled eyes, he jumped to the ground, pulled her off the horse and into his arms. He pressed her close to his chest, winding one arm around her waist while running the other hand over her tangled hair as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. He held her while she sobbed softly, realizing that the trauma of the past day had finally caught up with her.

"There, there, Bella," he hummed tenderly. "I promise, I won't take any chances, just, please, don't cry." Ward had never been one to be swayed by a crying woman, apart from Bella. Her tears touched a spot so deep inside him that he had forgotten it existed – until now.

She sniffed and looked up at Ward with tear-drowned eyes. "Eddie, the Valentines have no scruples and they will do anything to get this land. They killed my father and now they've burned down the Hualapai village." She had to pause as she was overcome by a fresh bout of tears. "Eddie, I don't think… I could bear it… if they took… took… you away, too." She fisted her hands in the soft buckskin on his chest and wept. Her strength failed her and she began to collapse. Ward held her tight and led them both down softly to their knees.

Ward felt a pain stab his heart as he realized what she had lost because of those filthy Valentines, and he vowed silently that he would do everything in his power to make sure they didn't take anything else from her. As of this moment, he was appointing himself her protector. Nothing or no one would ever hurt her again, as long as he had breath in his body.

Ward leaned his head down and began to softly kiss away her tears. He didn't know what else to do to comfort her; he just wanted to make her pain and fear go away. He brushed his lips across her cheeks, tasting the saltiness of her tears; he kissed across her nose, her chin and her jaw line. He let his lips ghost across her mouth as he moved back up her face to kiss her closed eyes, feeling the moist lashes flutter against his lips. He pulled back far enough to meet her eyes as she slowly opened them. Then he felt her tremble as he closed his eyes and once again covered her lips with his.

Bella's hands loosened their hold on his shirt and slowly slid up his chest until they were buried in the thick hair at his nape. She strained to get closer to him, wanting the comfort of his lips as they sent waves of pleasure through her body. Ward didn't think he had ever felt anything more perfect that the soft, warm woman pressed tightly against his body. When he held her, a tingling feeling swept across his skin and he could feel his hear knit with hers, again he dreamed of settling down in one place, on a spread of his own, with a woman waiting in the home they built together, keeping a watchful eye over their brood of children. This woman; their children.

Slowly he removed his lips from hers, moving them to press softly to her forehead. He heard the soft sigh that escaped her parted mouth and had to battle with his inner self not to continue kissing her. Her kisses were fast becoming as necessary to his well-being as water or food or the air he breathed. He was amazed at how important this woman had become to him in such a short time. Then he realized that she always had been; he'd just lost touch with her for a while. Just as he had lost touch with himself for a time, and the man he used to be, the man he now wanted to be for her.

Bella felt as if her heart would surely fail, as it was beating so fast. She had never felt anything like the security she felt when she was in Eddie's arms. But not just security; when he held her she felt like she had finally found her place in the world. All the struggles she had been through in this year since her father was killed had been leading to this moment. Eddie was the end of her journey, or perhaps, just the beginning. This was all so new to her, but she knew she wanted him in her life, he had become her whole future.

As their lips parted, she was amazed at the feeling of completeness that settled over her mind and body. As he pulled back from her, she swayed a little at the loss of support and his hands quickly curved around her upper arms.

"We better get you home and then over to your friend's place." He bent his head and peered caringly into her eyes as he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now." She smiled gently in return and whispered, "You promised me you wouldn't take any chances. I'm gonna hold you to that, Eddie."

"You do that, Darlin'," his voice soft and low. "You give me a reason to be careful."

"Do you mean that?" her eyes lifted to his in wonder.

He gave her a small, crooked smile. "You make ranch life look better and better all the time."

Her eyes grew wide as the words registered. Then she remembered she had something to tell him.

"It's funny you should say that, because I've got something really important to tell you about my ranch."

He couldn't help lifting his hand to run the backs of his fingers along her soft cheek. "Oh, really, and what might that be?"

Bella took a deep breath, and began, "You know how your father was good friends with my father back in Philadelphia?" Ward nodded, but remained silent as Bella continued. "And you know that it was always our fathers' plan to meet up here sometime." Ward still didn't say anything, but his curiosity was piqued, and he hung on her words. "Well, before my family left Philadelphia, our fathers had an agreement. My father would come out west and find a suitable spread, and then you and your family would follow. Your father invested money with my father to purchase the land – our ranch."

She paused to let her words sink in. Ward's mind was trying to process what she had just told him and finally said, "So, you're telling me that your ranch was purchased with money my father invested with your father?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. Half the money was your father's. My father always intended that he share in the ranch." Bella's chocolate-brown eyes never wavered from Ward's clear green ones. "Eddie, half my ranch belongs to you."

A look of incredulity spread over his face. "No, Bella, I… your ranch… no, I couldn't…"

"Eddie, don't argue with me, not now. Just accept it, our fate started to roll out a long time ago. Right now I feel it like a freight train comin' full steam ahead. My father was always adamant that half the ranch belonged to your father, and as he's dead, it now belongs to you. No more arguments." A sudden wave of sadness entered her eyes as she suddenly thought of something. "But you probably don't want to own half of anything with me, right?" Her lips turned up slightly in a sad little half smile. "I mean, I am 'Crazy Izzy' after all."

"Oh, Bella, no, that's not what I meant!" Ward spoke quickly, intending to nip that notion in the bud immediately. "It just doesn't seem fair for you to hand over half your ranch to me. After all, it was your father's hard work that went into making it what it is."

"Yes, it is fair," Bella insisted. "My father often told me that he would never have been able to buy our place if he hadn't had your father's help. So, like it or not Eddie, half the ranch is yours."

Ward had never been one to believe in fate, but he couldn't help believing that maybe Bella was right and some higher power had led him to Devil's Fork. He had found Bella again, his childhood friend, and discovered that she was everything he'd ever dreamed of in a woman. And he couldn't have come into her life at a time when she needed him more. She had her hands full trying to stave off a hostile takeover of her ranch by the cutthroat Valentines. After what she had just told him, it seemed they were trying to get his ranch as well.

"Okay, we'll talk about this more later," Ward decided that it was best to save their conversation for a place less out in the open. He just realized that they had stopped in the middle of nowhere and would be sitting ducks for any sharpshooter that might have replaced him on the Valentines' payroll. "Let's get you over to your house and then into town, alright?"

Bella just nodded and waited until Ward had mounted and then let him pull her back up on the horse. They traveled in silence, Bella taking up her original posture behind him for the rest of the trip to her place. As they topped over the same ridge Ward had climbed with the Valentines' just a few days ago, the sight below caused Ward to abruptly halt and turn to embrace the small woman behind him.

_No! Damn those Valentines to hell! They had not done this to his Bella!_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

**Belly: Hey, Melly, how did you like that little turn of events?**

**Melly: Well, I'd have to say it's just the beginning of the free-fall portion of this little rollercoaster**

**Belly: And we're so lucky to have a seat in the front car!**

**Melly: * Melly raises here hands up * Yes, we are lucky. I'm liking this whole riding the horse behind Ward action.**

**Belly: I know. I just love a manly man, and Ward is the manliest of the manly. **

**Melly: That he is.**

**Belly & Melly: ***** sigh ***


	11. Justice

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. This chapter is pretty good, as you may infer from the title. We really hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as we are enjoying writing it. Ward is one sexy gun slinger!.**

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope all you guys do too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 11 – Justice **

"No, no, not now…" Ward's broken voice trailed off as he felt Bella's body crumple. The devastation was total. Little more than a charred skeleton remained of her once-cozy little cottage. The barn was completely obliterated; they'd even torn down the rail fence that surrounded the property. All of the animals were run off or stolen. One sad rag of clothing flapped in the breeze on the line behind the house, waving in hopeless surrender.

Ward slid off the horse, taking Bella in his arms. She stood limply, in shock at the sight before her. Without warning she sunk to her knees and screamed. "NO! Damn them! WHY?" Ward met her on the ground and absorbed the flailing blows of frustration that she leveled against his chest. He did the only thing he could think to do, crooning soft words of sympathy in her ear.

When all the fight had left her, she slumped in his arms and moaned piteously, "Edward."

"I know darlin'." He placed a kiss on her forehead and helped her to stand up. "Let's go down and see if there's anything left."

She nodded mutely and woodenly accepted his help mounting the pony again. Once they got to where the front porch used to be, Bella's tears began anew. She was sympathetic to the Hualapai's tragic circumstance. Their whole village was burned. She was, however, infinitely more empathetic to their plight now. She walked through the rubble and tried to identify anything of value, but there was nothing left. The only things remotely recognizable were the cast iron stove and a few pans.

Ward followed behind her, scanning the debris and managed to come up with a few scraps, but Bella dismissed his finds with a sad shake of her head. He watched helplessly as she drifted off to the shade of the old mesquite tree at the back of her property.

"So what do you suppose you'll do now?" She asked as Ward took up a seat next to her, leaning back against the trunk of the gnarled and twisted tree. She was staring off into nothing, her face washed in tears, as she drew shapes into the dust with her finger.

He sat quietly contemplating his options. It didn't take very long since there was really only one option for him to consider. This land was half his and this spirit-broken woman had taken full possession of him, body and soul. He'd have to be dragged away in chains before he ever left her side again.

"Nothin's changed, 'ceptin I think I'd prefer you to stay back at the camp with Jacob's people. It's probably best that you keep out of sight for now. I'm gonna scout out the Valle Verde and see what them slimy rat bastards are up to. Ain't nobody gonna mess with my property and not be held to account for their crime." His voice was like cold steel, low and full of resolve.

His words sparked a bit of hope in Bella, but her heart was still heavy with the loss of all the tangible memories of her father. The house itself was just a building; it was the keepsakes inside that held the most value. And now they were all gone. All because of the Valentines. Her despair was slowly being replaced by a rumbling fury that galvanized her resolve.

"Of course we're gonna need some funds and at least a pair of pistols. You think your friend Emmett might be able to help?"

She dashed the tears from her cheeks with a dusty hand and gave him a watery smile. "There's something else I need to tell you about this property." Her eyes were bright with determination and resolve as she stood up and smoothed down her skirt.

"You been holdin' out on me Miss Swan?" Ward's smile was like a balm to her spirit.

"Only 'til I was sure I could trust you. And I swear if you double-cross me," she emphasized her words with a sharp poke to his chest, "well, just remember hell hath no fury." She flattened her palm and pushed her hand on his chest to hold him back and confirm the seriousness of the message she was about to deliver. He wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her firmly against his chest, anchoring her there with his other arm.

"Heaven' help me if I ever cross you. I'm in this for the long haul Bella. I..." The words caught in his throat. He'd never told a woman that he loved her. But that's what he felt for Bella all the same. Deuce take it! He loved her!

She looked up expectantly into his eyes, "You what Eddie?" Her use of his childhood nickname flustered him even further.

He grumbled a few unintelligible curses under his breath and narrowed his eyes at the playful smirk that was currently gracing the plump and tempting lips of his love. "Doggone it all woman. I care for you somethin' fierce."

His eyes blazed with verdant desire as he lowered his lips to hers. The intensity of the kiss quickly mellowed into longing tenderness and unfulfilled need. Her body yielded to his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. All of her uncertainty and sadness seemed to melt away with each passing second.

Their kiss ended with soft pecks and light brushes. They clung to each other as Bella nestled her head onto Wards chest where it fit perfectly just under his chin. She thought it was her most favorite place to be in the whole world. "I care for you too. So much," she whispered. His grip tightened just enough to indicate that he'd heard her.

"Now," Ward said, his hands moving to gently hold Bella's shoulders, "what big secrets do you have to tell me?"

"There's gold."

"Where's gold?"

"A cave up in the hills not far away."

Ward pushed Bella away from himself and looked her right in the eyes, assuring himself that this was no joke or silly fib. "Well, I'll be. You're serious." Ward had to hand it to Bella; she'd managed to keep that secret well. The Valentine's had no idea how she was keeping her ranch solvent after her father died.

"Of course, I'm serious. We can get enough gold there to buy whatever we need. Jake's been helping me excavate. I think we're pretty close to the main vein, but we haven't hit it just yet. Do you want to see it?"

"Of course I want to see it," Ward looked about at the afternoon sun setting, "but how's about we do this. I'll take you back to Jake's village. I can't leave you here and I'd rather that our whereabouts not be known just yet. Plus I need to get our horses back."

Even though she'd been trying to prepare herself for this separation, Bella's eyes grew wide at the prospect of Eddie walking straight into the lion's den. "I hate that you're going there by yourself. They'll kill you on the spot if you're discovered!"

"Trust me sweetheart. I need my horse. With any luck, I'll be able to scrounge up a few pistols." He flashed his most confident smile and tugged on her hand leading her back to the painted horse and an uncertain future.

* * *

It was still quite dark by the time Ward rode back into the temporary Hualapai encampment. He walked quietly to the lean-to where Bella was sleeping, just to let her know he was back. He then returned and reported to Jacob and Sam on the condition of the Elders. Sam was outraged that they were being kept tied up in a barn stall, but Jacob was relieved that they were relatively unharmed.

After checking on the Elders, Ward sneaked across the compound to the bunkhouse. Rufus was asleep on the porch with his chair leaning against the wall on the back two legs, hat pulled over his eyes, snoring like a bear. Ward chuckled inwardly at the caliber of night watchmen the Valentine's trusted as he slipped in to the bunkhouse. He thanked his lucky stars when he saw his hat and boots next to the cot that he'd occupied for a short while. The moccasins he'd been given by the Hualapai were much appreciated, but there was nothing like slipping his feet into his own boots. Once he'd retrieved what he could of his gear, he headed back to the stable. It was almost too easy for him to quietly saddle up Duke before searching around and finding a saddle for Captain. He figured the saddle was a fair start to what the Valentines owed to Bella. Then he silently led both him and Captain away.

He walked the horses quietly about a mile away from the ranch to where he had the borrowed Hualapai horse tied up. Once he had the other two horses tethered, he set out at a steady gallop, skirting around the main part of the town, back to the Indian camp. He was none too happy that his firearms were missing. Presumably, Arrow had them locked up in the big house. At least that's where Ward would've kept them, and he wasn't stupid enough to go waltzing in rummaging through Arrow's gun cabinet for his Colts. They'd just have to make do some other way.

Ward was on edge the entire mission, at least until he'd returned back to camp and set his eyes on Bella again. She centered him; grounded him in reality. At first light, she helped prepare breakfast for everyone while Edward continued to strategize with Jacob, then they set out for the mine. And while Bella was glad to have Captain back, she would've rather been riding behind Ward, her head leaning up against the strong planes of his back.

They thanked Jacob again for his help and made their way past the far side of Bella's ranch and up into the hills. The morning air was warm, and clean, and the flowers on the cacti were blooming brightly. They chatted casually about the gold mine, Bella pointed up in the hills to its approximate location. After crossing over a dry wash and winding up through a small trace, they finally reached the opening of a cave. It had several large tumbleweeds and other debris camouflaging the entrance. It would be hard to spot if you didn't know what you were looking for.

"So this is it?" Ward asked with an edge of enthusiasm in his voice. He'd never been in a mine before and felt a bit like he was reliving an imagined boyhood adventure.

"Yup. If you go in a little ways, there's a few nuggets we left behind. We've tried to be careful, not bringing in large amounts to the bank. Didn't want to be too conspicuous and all."

"That's my smart lady." Ward grinned as he chucked Bella on the chin and stooped to enter the mouth of the cave. Sure enough he came back out with two chunks of gold, admiring their weight. "For Pete's sake Bella, there's a fortune in there!"

The click of a pistol being cocked and the crunch of gravel underfoot stopped Ward dead in his tracks. Bella turned her eyes slowly to the side and noticed one of the ugliest men she had ever seen. He looked like he had fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. Ward cursed himself for not being as vigilant as he should've been. One of the Valentine's goons had followed them, and that mistake could prove to be fatal.

"Too bad you ain't gonna be 'round to enjoy that fortune!" Hank sniggered and waved Bella closer to Ward. "Toss 'em here," he demanded using the nose of the gun to indicate the gold nuggets in Ward's hand.

Casually, Ward tossed the gold, one hunk at a time, to Hank who eyed them greedily all the while licking his lips.

"I ain't as stupid as you might think. Fact, even right now Rufus is going back to get the bosses. I dun left a trail all the way from your place up to here. It's only a matter of time 'fore they come." Hank looked quite smug with his work for the day.

He went on and on about how when they woke up and saw the horses gone, he and Rufus had come out to the Swan ranch on a hunch. "And sure enough who comes moseyin' by but the likes of you two."

"You're dumber than a sack of rocks Hank." Ward casually lobbed the insult at the goon. He immediately got more defensive and nervous. Bella gave Ward a sharp glance, wondering why he was antagonizing an obviously crazy man who was wielding a gun. "You think when they get here they're just gonna hand over these gold nuggets to you and say, 'much obliged Hank, enjoy bein' rich!'? You won't get nothin' but more of being the Valentine's half-witted lackey."

Hank started pacing around, loosely waving the gun in their direction. He hadn't thought of the possibility of taking the gold for himself. He was just a loyal dog to the Master, but now, he thought he might find a way to get a bone of his own.

The problem with Hank was that he was twitchy when he had a thought, which wasn't often. Every time Bella shifted her weight or Ward coughed, Hank began shouting and waving his gun wildly in their direction. Ward was done with the ridiculous stalemate so he began to speak up.

"Hank, listen, we don't have to let this get out of hand. There's quite a few other nuggets just inside here. How's about I go fetch 'em for ya, and you go on your own way?" Ward made to back up a bit causing Hank to lose his cool.

"DON'CHA move a muscle, hear!? I ain't dumb, and I ain't lettin' you get outta here scotfree neither. You'uns is supposed to be dead."

Hank began pacing back and forth waving the gun and mumbling about how it was impossible that they weren't dead and how many nuggets could he get into his pockets before the Valentines got there. Edward lowered his hands and brushed them along the outsides of his britches. Partly because his hands were sweaty, and he hated that, but also because he wanted his hand closer to the only weapon he had. The movement caught Hank's attention and he rounded on Ward raising the gun to the level of his heart.

Quick as lightning, Ward reached into the back of his pants and flung the knife that was hidden there directly into Hank's gut. In that same moment, the bang of the gun and the ping of a ricocheted bullet echoed throughout the foothills. Bella's eyes cringed shut as she gasped, too shocked to do anything else. She was motionless as she watched Hank clutch the knife with one hand, his stunned face staring right at her. He slowly fell to the ground on his knees, the pistol dangling from his nerveless fingers as he dropped to the ground with a thud. She snatched it up from where it fell and pointed it at him until he fell over on his side.

She whipped her head to the mouth of the cave where she saw Ward still standing, stunned, but apparently unharmed. But again, in a split second, she watched in horror as the loose rock began to give way above his head and a shower of gravel, hunks of larger stones, and a boulder came crashing down around Ward.

This time, it was her screams that echoed down the valley, louder than the gunshot it seemed. "EDWARD!" Bella hurried to the cave and began clawing at the fallen rocks, screaming Ward's name over and over. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. Her heart was beating like the hooves of a galloping horse as the desperate tears began coursing down her cheeks.

Hank gave a labored grunt, startling Bella and pulling her attention back to the wounded man. He had his hands wrapped about the handle of the knife weakly struggling to pull it out. Blood was dripping from his mouth and nose and his skin was pale white. Bella picked up the gun and held it more firmly, though the tremble in her hands was clearly evident by the wobbling barrel.

"Now it's jus' you and me girly," Hank said, his voice garbled with bubbling blood and saliva. His teeth were stained red with the blood that he'd already coughed up.

"You stay away from me," she warned with a tremulous voice, swiping away the tears with the back of her hand.

With a forceful pull, Hank managed to wrench the knife from his abdomen and staggered to his feet. "If I kill you, at least they'll know I died trying." He lunged forward and grabbed onto Bella's shoulder, a look of sheer malice in his eye. Bella was loathe to kill a man, but she'd be no good to Eddie if she went and got herself killed. She felt the barrel of the gun press against his chest just as his knife sunk into her shoulder. Bella screamed and pulled the trigger. Hank's eyes flew open and his mouth rounded in a silent scream as he collapsed onto the ground, sliding his way down Bella's legs, his eyes set in a vacant stare.

Any other moment and Bella would've fainted dead away, but she had to get to Edward. She grabbed her shoulder where the blood was coming out. It wasn't too deep, just enough to hurt something fierce, but she could still move her arm. She ripped a strip of fabric from her skirt and tied it around her shoulder to try and hold the wound closed and staunch the flow of blood. She, who had always hated the sight and smell of blood, barely noticed it now. All she could think about was Edward. Back at the mouth of the cave, she began clawing at the rocks once more and screaming his name.

* * *

"BOSS! BOSS!" Rufus ran his horse almost up to the front door of the sprawling ranch house on the Valle Verde Ranch. He scampered off and flung the door wide open just as a disgruntled Arrow, furious Cassius, and half-interested Marcus rounded the corner from the dining room.

"You've interrupted our breakfast. I hope that you have a deuced good reason for doing so," Arrow's glacial stare would've frozen even the hottest branding iron in the blacksmith's shop. Cassius presence was so otherworldly and strange, Rufus hated to be near him, and he could barely form the words he was so ready to shout before. He backed cautiously back out onto the porch, followed closely by the three brothers.

"Th..ey…'s, They's alive. They's alive and I heard her call him Eddie."

"Who's alive?" Arrow's annoyed voice carried across the expansive front yard.

"Ward Masen and that Swan girl. Only his name ain't Ward; _she called him EDDIE_!" The significance of that fact just now dawning on him.

Arrow narrowed his gaze on the scrawny man as his lips curled into an evil smile. He turned back into the house and jotted down a dispatch, sealed it in an envelope and returned to the porch.

"There's more boss." Rufus began to whisper, leaning in a little toward Arrow. "She was leading him up to a gold mine."

The three brothers drew up in surprise and turned on the hired man. Rufus swallowed thickly and began quaking in his boots, heavily weighed down by the intense scrutiny of the Valentines. Marcus turned with a shrug and headed to the dinning room, as though no gold mine could be as important as his breakfast.

"I knew there was more to her holding on to that property than just nostalgia," hissed Cassius.

"Get what provisions you can take in your saddle bags and get back here," commanded Arrow, "I'm counting to thirty. If y'ain't back here, expect to be shot. I want this letter in the hands of the Phoenix Sheriff by tomorrow morning or else."

Rufus took off like the hounds of hell were on his heels, but to his credit, was galloping out of the Valle Verde gate before Arrow got to twenty-eight.

"Marcus, Cassius, let's saddle up and see what little Miss Swan thinks of the renovations to her Daddy's ranch. But first, lets eat. She ain't goin' nowhere."

The three men chuckled darkly as they leisurely made their way inside to finish breakfast and get ready to head out. As Arrow put on his gun belt and duster, he paid special attention to the firearms he chose.

* * *

Bella's hands were raw and her shoulder was burning with pain as she continued to heft the large rocks that had fallen into the mouth of the cave. Her face was caked with dust and liberally streaked with tears.

"Not now. You ain't gonna leave me again. Not now, please Lord!" As she continued to pull down handfuls of dirt and rock, she heard a faint growl. Afraid that a cougar or some other animal had picked up on the scent of the blood that had been spilt, she quickly picked up the pistol and spun around in a circle. Not seeing anything, she cautiously put the weapon down and resumed her chanting and digging, glancing behind her every few seconds. Again a low growl pierced the solitude of the area causing her to stop all her activity completely. After a few seconds, she heard a string of the most colorful language that she ever heard outside of the saloon.

"Eddie? EDDIE! Are you alive?"

"Course I'm alive, you hear me cussin' doncha?"

"Can you hear me?"

"Ugghhh What kind of question is that? My leg's trapped under the rock, I can't get enough leverage to move it."

"I'm comin' Eddie, just hang on!"

As Ward laid in the blackness of the cave, his leg and ankle throbbed with a searing pain. If it wasn't broken he'd be mighty surprised. After what felt like an eternity, little shafts of light began filtering through the small opening that Bella was making. As the hole grew larger he had to squint his eyes against the brightness of the light. After a few minutes, and the frantic but reassuring words of his sweetheart, his eyes grew accustomed to the level of light in the cave. He was leaned up on one elbow, trying to move what he could off of his body, but not having much luck. He growled again in frustration and let his head flop to the ground. As he looked up, a glint caught his eye and a wide smile grew on his face.

"Oh Eddie!" Bella tumbled across the pile of rock and rubble on her hands and knees and fell on his face, kissing every dusty part. He reached up to grab her shoulders and get her to focus when she screamed out in pain. "What, what? I didn't hurt you did I?"

"That ugly old donkey's rear end out there got that knife out of his gut and into my shoulder, but don't you worry. I took care of him." Bella was almost outside of herself, not thinking about what happened, just focusing on Eddie and getting him out of the rocks.

"Oh Bella, I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

"Never you mind. I've been protecting myself for a long time now. I'm gonna get us both outta here. You'll see."

An eternity later, Bella had cleared all but the heaviest rocks away from Ward's body. She held her right arm close to her body when she wasn't holding a rock. Ward knew her shoulder must feel like the devil himself was poking it with his fiery pitchfork. Bella sagged as she looked at the last large rock that had his leg pinned. If she had to guess, it was at least a hundred pounds.

"I need to get a lever. I ain't gonna be able to lift it very high, but maybe enough for you to get it unstuck?"

Ward nodded, gritting fiercely against the pain that was worsening every second. Bella positioned the fulcrum rock a few feet away and then hunted around for a longer stick, sturdy enough to lift the heavy stone.

She came back with a couple different sticks and jammed the first one under the rock. "On the count of three, alright?"

Ward nodded and waited for her count. On three she pushed down with all her might and the rock began to lift slightly. Ward felt instant relief, but it lasted only a few seconds before a sharp crack rang out and the lever broke, landing the rock back onto his injured leg.

"ARRRRRGGGHHHH! Go..."

Bella shot him a murderous glare daring him to take the name of the Lord in vain.

"GOTDANDRUFFSOMEOFITITCHES!"

For a moment she was taken aback with the ridiculous utterance and couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the outburst.

"Woman! Get the other stick and lift this confounded rock off of me!"

"Fine then, but you'll have to be quicker pullin' your leg out. I don't think the other one is gonna hold much longer than the first."

The pain was evident in his face but he gave a stiff nod and braced himself for the second attempt. On three Bella pushed down again with every bit of strength that she had left and was somehow able to get the rock high enough to clear Ward's leg. He managed enough strength to jerk his injured leg free of the rock and slumped backward panting.

No sooner had he gotten clear of the boulder when the lever cracked again and sent Bella tripping forward landing hard on her injured shoulder. Hearing her scream out again, Ward drug himself towards her. She quickly scrambled to Ward's side and for a moment, they just held onto each other the best they could. After catching her breath Bella looked up into her Eddie's face and brushed the dirt-caked, sweaty hair from his eyes.

"Eddie, are you alright?" She tenderly stroked her raw and scraped fingers across the furrowed lines of pain on his brow. He lifted his head just slightly off the ground and cocked a wan smile at her.

"Plug your ears love." Bella just stared at him for a moment and then reached one hand up to plug her left ear and leaned her right ear against his chest. He tilted his head toward the roof of the cave and issued the longest string of curses imaginable. Bella closed her eyes, discomposed by the fact that she could hear the muffled words filtering through her plugged ears. She knew exactly what Ward was saying. Thing was, she agreed, whole heartedly.

When she felt his touch on her chin, she opened her eyes and arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you done now?" He nodded, smiling ruefully. "And do you feel better?" He nodded again and attempted to pull her up to his lips. She gently placed a hand on his chest and shook her head. "If you think I'm kissing a mouth as dirty as that one, before you wash it out with soap, you've got another think com..."

His hand moved to the back of her head as he sat up, closing the distance between them instantly, and pressed his urgent mouth to hers. She only struggled for a mere second before she gave in to the worry and fear that had plagued her, drowning it in the sensations that Ward's kiss ignited within her. It wasn't until she was safe in his arms that everything came rushing back. She'd almost lost him. She'd killed a man. She was bleeding. Her home was destroyed. The Valentine's were coming. For her!

Ward sat and held her against him in the shade of the cave, letting her sob out all of the emotion. If the Valentine's really were coming, she'd need a more level head. He asked after the guns that Hank was carrying. She stood up, walking woodenly into the bright sunlight, and fetched the one she had dropped before reluctantly plucking the other out of the holster on the dead man's body. When she got back to the opening of the cave, Ward was standing on his one good leg, leaning heavily against the rock wall.

"Is it broken?"

"Naw, just banged up somethin' fierce. I'm glad I had my own boots though. I reckon the leather protected my leg some." He quickly checked how many bullets were left in each gun, and made sure the action worked on them. He shoved one gun into the back of his buckskin breeches, just off to the side where he might reach it quickly if the need arose. "You hang on to that one," he said pushing the other into Bella's limp hand. She sighed and tucked it into the deep left pocket of her skirt and then smoothed her hair back. Too bad she was right handed, Bella thought.

"Here, wrap your arm 'round my good shoulder and I'll help you out." Bella dipped her head under Ward's arm and shouldered some of his weight as he limped out of the cave.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The iciness of Arrow's voice pierced Bella through the heart.

The three brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, like some noble triumvirate, when they were really nothing more than the scum of the earth and murderers. Arrow had the barrel of Charlie Swan's rifle propped against his shoulder while his hand curled around the trigger and stock. Marcus and Cassius had brushed back their dusters and had both hands resting on the pistols in their gun belts.

Cassius bent his red glare on to Izzy and sneered, "Looks like I'm not the only ghost come to haunt the desert."

"It would seem that these two are quite alive and breathing brother," intoned Marcus. "More so than this worthless idiot." Marcus lightly nudged Hank's body with his toe.

"That it would my dear brother." He settled his gaze on Bella, and spoke, "Tell me dearie, do you like what we've done with place?" Arrow tossed his hand around indicating the destruction to Bella's Ranch in the valley below.

Her entire body tensed with rage. She was ready to launch herself on that sorry excuse for a man and claw his eyes out. Ward felt her anger and held her back. At least his cool head was on straight and keeping him from making any more mistakes. She struggled against his arm, wanting to release her pent up frustration on the dark man in front of her. "How could you?" she screamed. "How could you destroy an entire village?"

Arrow ignored her questioning and stepped over Hank's dead body without a second thought, toward them and the cave. He reached out and grabbed her right shoulder, pushing specifically on the obvious wound, to move her out of his way. "Cassius, what do you suppose is in here?"

Bella could barely make a sound as the pain sliced through her arm and chest so fast she saw stars. She began to crumble and Edward tried to hold her up and turned as if to make a move towards Arrow. Marcus quickly leveled his gun at Edward's heart and clicked back the hammer. Edward dropped his arm, but continued to stare down Arrow.

"I'm still alive and this is still my land. You three need to leave." Bella's voice was weak with pain and lacked the authority to cause any uncertainty in the greedy usurper. Marcus chuckled lightly. "As if any land belongs to anyone. It's just a matter of fire power Miss Swan. Right now, you lose. Who knows?" he shrugged casually before continuing. "Another day, we might lose." It was the most Bella had ever heard the man speak, and his words were so odd she couldn't even respond.

"To anyone that matters, you are dead, and left no will. Therefore, I bought the land from the bank and it's MINE to do with as I please." Arrow stepped just inside the cave, avoiding the fallen rock and glancing around. His eyes positively glittered with avarice. "Oh my dear Isabella, you have been keeping a deliciously naughty secret haven't you? Come brothers and look at what she's been hiding all this while."

Cassius and Marcus stepped into the mine and grinned when they saw the large vein of gold that had been revealed after the cave-in caused by Hank's careless shooting. The rocks that had fallen were littered with nuggets of gold and the brothers began to toe around the rocks to see how much was there.

It was all the opening that Ward and Bella needed. And since Ward was never one to shoot a man in the back, since that was what lily-livered cowards do, he waited for their about face. When the three men turned out of the cave, they were staring down the barrel of one of Hank's six-shooters.

"Don't even twitch, gentlemen," Edward breathed in a deadly tone of voice the likes of which Bella'd only heard about. Marcus and Cassius seemed to value their lives a bit more than Arrow as they froze at his words. Arrow, though, over-confidant as ever lowered the rifle from his shoulder and began to examine it, as if he hadn't another care in the world.

"Now we both know you aren't Ward Masen, and your reputation has certainly made it to this part of the territory. Don't think that I haven't put the facts together." Arrow continued to examine his rifle. Now that he had Edward's attention, he felt he had a little more control of the situation, even if his weaker brothers didn't. "I never could understand why Charlie wouldn't sell me his land. Especially with the price I was offerin' him. I guess he was smarter than I figured he was." Arrow began to pace a few steps left and right, all the while keeping his eyes away from Bella's. "Not even when I had him on his knees begging for his life, for you," he then unleashed his hateful stare on Bella causing a surge of fury in her bosom, "he still wouldn't sell out."

"He knew that what you were trying to do, forcin' the Hualapai off their land, was wrong. Our ranch was the last buffer between you and them." Her hand shook lightly as she slowly slipped it into her pocket.

"It was a shame. He was a decent fellow, but far too meddlesome a sheriff for me to conduct my business effectively." Arrow paced and then stopped directly in front of Bella. He rubbed one hand over the rifle again and the swiftly pulled it up to aim at Bella's head.

"Arrow," Ward growled, but was completely ignored.

"Recognize this Isabella? I was sure glad to get this out of your cabin before we burnt it down. I'd've kept it when I killed your old man but that would've looked a bit too suspicious. Don't you agree?" His patronizing tone was grating on Bella's last nerve. She didn't have to listen to this, she wouldn't listen to it!

Marcus and Cassius inched their way closer to Arrow but only very slightly, as Ward still had his pistol trained on them and they knew how fast he was.

Bella moved the hand that had been helping Ward. She wrapped her hand around the rifle and pulled it closer to her heart. Edward didn't know what she had planned but he was getting nervous. Her lip quivered with the emotion of hearing the confession come directly from Arrow's lips. She'd been right. One grief-filled tear streaked down her cheek as she glared back at Arrow's smug expression.

"I will never be scared of my father's gun."

Only Ward's keen and practiced gaze saw the infinitesimal contraction of her eye and noticed that her left hand was in her pocket where he knew the second gun was. She lifted the pistol, still in the pocket of her skirt to Arrows chest and without hesitating, pulled the trigger. As the bullet left the barrel of the pistol, she screamed and with her injured right arm pushed the rifle barrel between her side and arm as Arrow pulled the trigger. At the same moment, Ward put his gun-slinging reflexes to good use and quickly fired off two shots, taking down Marcus and Cassius. As the bullet pierced through Arrow's heart, he dropped the rifle and his eyes widened in surprise. He glanced down briefly at the two men that had stood by his side for decades before he fell to his knees and then face down in the dirt.

Bella was shaking all over as she continued to hold up the pistol, now protruding from the hole she had blasted in her skirt. Ward gently pried her fingers away and tucked it in his breeches. She stood motionless as he limped over to the three Valentine brothers, silently removing all of their weapons.

Satisfied that the situation was no longer threatening, Ward took a moment to assess his woman. She was all soft and delicate curves, but hidden inside was a ribbon of steel stronger than he'd seen in some of the soldiers he'd fought with. He could see, though, that she was barely hanging on, keeping herself together by sheer will and determination alone. When she looked up at him with a blank stare, his heart broke. In the space of just a few hours she'd seen her home destroyed, been stabbed, held at gunpoint, and had dug him out of a rock slide. Then to top it all off, she had killed two men. He tried to summon up the long-since buried emotions that he'd felt as a green, stripling soldier, getting his first taste of the reality of army life. The shock of snuffing out the life of another person, no matter how despicable they were, was still almost impossible to bear.

He took her hand and she finally focused her eyes on his and asked, "Is it over?"

He folded her inside his embrace and standing in the midst of the dust, rock, blood, gold, and bodies, spoke softly into her hair, "Yes, it's over Love. It's all over."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Melly: Hey, Belly…**

**Belly: Yes , Melly? **

**Melly: You know, I'm a little bit in love with this chapter. **

**Belly: I could tell. You really out-did yourself. It was "pure gold". **

**Melly: Of course, I have to give major props to SweetThunder. Stabbing Bella was her idea.**

**Belly: Well that little Lizzy Borden wannabe. We may have to keep our eye on her. *looking cautiously over shoulder* **

**Melly: Well I guess I'm going to be busy tending to Ward's injured leg. He may need some special attention. **

**Belly: You seem to forget that the next chapter is mine. But I'll let you assist, cause I'm nice that way.**

**Melly: Dang it! Well as long as I can help. I'll take him any way I can get him.**

**Belly & Melly: * sigh ***


	12. The Death of Ward Masen

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. Melly and I certainly didn't mean to upset anyone with the title of this chapter, but, somehow, it really fits. We certainly hope you like it. Total kudos go to Melly for writing this chapter, too. I know, it was supposed to be mine, but I've been killed with Real Life, and she had such a great idea for it, so she wrote the bulk of this one too and let me add my stuff to it.**

**As always, our awesome beta, SweetThunder added her special touch and made the chapter just that much more awesome. **

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope you will join us in our sandbox. **

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

… … …

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 12 – The Death of Ward Masen**

The sun was sitting low in the sky casting every shade of purple, pink, and orange over the dusty town as the small train of horses, led by Ward, filed into the livery stable yard. The stable hand quickly untethered the Valentine's horses and helped Bella down from her perch in front of Ward.

She cradled her injured arm gently against her chest as she waited for Ward to descend. They were quite a site, both covered in dirt and blood, looking as beat down as a stray dog. One could only imagine what the livery boy thought.

"Hey son, can you go'n fetch the Sheriff and have him bring the doctor too?" Ward asked gruffly, tossing the boy a shiny gold nugget. He winced sharply as he hobbled over to a bale of hay to sit down. As his seat landed on the hay he grunted in pain, his body hurting all over.

The young man's eyes grew wide in disbelief as they traveled slowly from the piece of metal in his hand up to Ward's face. "Yessir!" he nodded emphatically as he scrambled down the road on his errand. He let out a large whoop once he'd cleared the stable doors causing Edward to smile a bit at the boy's enthusiasm.

Bella went to the water pump, filling a bucket full of fresh water and using her one arm, mostly dragging it over to where Ward was sitting. Silently they both drank their fill. Ward used his bandanna to wash some of the grit and grime from his face while Bella tore away a few strips of her skirt from the hole she had blasted in it and after washing her face, started to tend to Ward's wounds.

"Lemme take a look at your shoulder," he said softly, reaching over to gently take Bella's arm in his hands. The blood had dried, causing the torn fabric to stick to the wound. She hissed as he tried to peel away the edges of the fabric of her dress. "Here, why don't we soak it a bit; get some of that dried blood softened up."

Bella nodded and held the wet cloth against the wound. She was just now starting to notice the faint metallic smell of the blood and was feeling a bit sickened by it. She leaned on to Ward's shoulder and closed her eyes, willing herself to remain conscious even though she could feel the black swirls that were covering her vision as she continued to smell her own blood.

Ward began humming a soft tune, weakening Bella's resolve to stay awake. She slowly drifted down to where her head lay in his lap as he hummed and stroked her tangled hair. It felt like hours, but in reality, was just a few minutes later, when a gaggle of people burst into the livery barn and began fluttering and fussing over the weary pair.

Alice and Jasper were at the forefront of the group that also included the doctor, the sheriff, as well as Emmett. They were all looking grim and concerned as they took in Bella and Ward's state of being.

"Isabella!" Alice cried, as she flung her arms around her best friend. "We were so worried, and you were gone, just gone! And your house, and I thought you were dead! But you're not! Don't you ever go and die on me again!" She finally paused to take a breath, and saw the grimace of pain marring Bella's face. "Oh, forgive me," she said as she released her death grip on Bella, in favor of a more tender embrace. "I didn't mean to get carried away. Doc's here and he's gonna check you over once we get you to my place." Alice cringed a little as she looked over the state of Bella's clothes.

"I'm sorry Alice, the skirt got tore up something awful…" Bella said.

"Don't you worry one bit. Who cares about this old rag anyways? It's just an opportunity to get something new and fancy!" Alice replied as her hands fluttered over Bella, not knowing how to help but wanting to.

"Ward's foot," Bella responded weakly as she allowed Alice and Ward to help her up to a sitting position.

"The doc will check both of you. I'm just so glad you're safe. What happened?" Alice looked back and forth between Bella and Ward, trying to determine who would be more likely to answer. Jasper had emptied out the bucket and brought it over freshly filled. Ward was chugging back more water when someone spoke up from the back of the group.

"I'd like to know that myself," drawled Sheriff Cheney, looking pointedly at Ward. "Where've you two been for the last few days?" he asked, nodding his 10-gallon towards the both of them.

"Where to start?" Ward mused dryly.

"Beginning's usually a good place," smirked Cheney.

Ever the voice of reason, Jasper spoke up. "How about we get them cleaned up and settled in at our place and see to their injuries and then start in on the particulars?"

Ward nodded and gratefully accepted Emmett's help to stand, while Jasper scooped Bella into his arms and headed out the door.

Several hours later, both Bella and Ward were settled comfortably in a spare room at Alice and Jasper's home, clean and presentable. Bella felt a bit self-conscious in the night gown that Alice had put her in, but she didn't have the heart to argue; it was comfortable after all. And Ward was just as handsome as ever in a fresh shirt and britches, his hair combed back. They'd strung a sheet down the middle of the room for when privacy was needed, but for now it was pulled back and the sheriff was concluding his interview.

"So where are the bodies now?"

Ward was about to start giving directions when Bella held up her hand. "I'm sorry, but I need to know something first. Can you send for Jasper?" Sheriff Cheney gave her a speculative look but nodded and stepped out of the room for a moment.

Jasper came in, hands in his pockets, looking both concerned and relieved that both Bella and Ward were in better spirits after a good wash and a meal. "You wanted to see me Isabella?"

"It's just Bella now. I'd forgotten how much more I preferred that to my full name."

"Bella, it is then." He smiled flashing a sliver of his gold tooth. "So how can I be of service?"

"When Arrow confronted us, he said something about having bought my note on the ranch from the bank. Is that true? Did he buy it?"

A wide grin spread over Jasper's face showing off fully his shiny tooth. "He didn't buy squat. Once a person is officially declared dead, which you were not, by the way, the bank requires a thirty day waiting period on any land transaction. And it usually gets auctioned, when that happens."

"So it's still mine? I m...mean...it's still ours?" Bella gaze swung to Ward and she gave him a small smile.

"Ours?" Jasper questioned.

"Ward's pa went in on the property with my pa. So it's half his too."

"Well, then I guess that means you'll be stickin' around, won't it Masen?"

Ward nodded slowly, "That is my plan. I don't think I'd be able to leave this pretty lady." And while it was his hearts desire to stay, Arrow's comments about his true identity left him with a ball of nerves in the pit of his stomach.

The sheriff cleared his throat and asked again, "So now that we've got that sorted out, where are the bodies?"

Bella drew a map to the location of the mine and asked Cheney to destroy it as soon as he returned to town. The last thing she needed was more opportunistic scoundrels after her land again.

"Consider it done. I'll go out with one of my deputies at first light and take care of the bodies."

"Oh and Sheriff?" Cheney turned his head as Ward spoke. "You'd do well to ride out to the Valle Verde. The Valentine's took several of the Hualapai Elders hostage when they burned out the village."

"They did what? Durned, blast it! I'll be sure get right on that. Thanks for the tip."

Alice came bustling in with a bowl full of some strong smelling goo and a length of bandage. "If you boys are all done, I'm going to put this liniment on Ward's foot and change the dressing on Bella's wound. So if you'd be so kind as to skeedaddle?" She raised an eyebrow that brooked no dispute and shooed Jasper and Sheriff Cheney in the direction of the main portion of the house. The front door closed and Bella breathed a long sigh of relief.

It had taken a fair amount of pulling and had caused an even greater amount of cussing to get the boot off of Ward's swollen foot and ankle. The doc didn't think it was broken either, but with all the swelling, it was hard to tell. He had ordered Ward to stay in bed for the next few days with his foot elevated and wrapped up.

"Well, let's see how your foot's lookin' after a few hours." Alice began to carefully unwind the bandage, but still managed to elicit a few grunts from Ward.

"Careful woman!" His grimace relaxing slightly as Bella reached her hand across the small space between their beds and stroked his fingers. He gripped her hand gently in his and closed his eyes.

"Well, it's still ugly to look at, but the swelling has gone down some. Hopefully this'll help." Alice began liberally applying the salve in the bowl to Ward's injury."

"Good Lord, Alice, what is that? It smells terrible!" Ward turned his head away and scrunched up his face in disgust.

Alice paid him no mind as she continued to apply the balm. "It's horse liniment. Rosalita says it's the best."

"She would," Ward grumbled under his breath. The woman was probably a professional torturer in her spare time, he thought, remembering the delight she had teasing James with her whip. She'd certainly left her mark on him. Ward's guess was that she left her mark on every man that crossed her path, one way or another.

_Ah James,_ Ward thought. He wondered what happened to the man that he'd almost considered a friend. He was either dead or had high-tailed it out of town when everything went down with the Valentines. His thoughts continued to drift through the different possibilities as Alice wrapped his foot back up, replacing it onto the pillows that had it elevated.

Ward looked back over at Bella, only to see that she'd fallen asleep. Finally she looked peaceful. The lines of worry that creased her forehead were smoothed as she rested and the frown that tugged her beautiful lips down was relaxed into a soft pout. Her chest rose and fell in a calm, slow rhythm. She looked like an angel in the white cotton nightgown that Alice had loaned her.

He squeezed her hand gently before placing it back on the bed. "Mmm. Edward," she sighed in her sleep and then turned her head into the pillow, sinking even deeper into sleep.

Ward rested his arm across his eyes and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he offered up a sincere prayer that nothing would take this angel out of his life again.

"You can't go up there!" shouted Alice. "They need to rest!"

"I've got a warrant and I certainly will not be deterred by the likes of you girly girl!" bellowed an unfamiliar voice, as heavy footfalls tromped up the stairs. The door burst open and a sweaty, flushed-faced, surly man pushed his way into the room past a disheveled Alice who had braced herself in the doorway.

The man was dressed in black trousers and a dark blue shirt, topped with a brown leather vest and a shiny gold star pinned to his chest. He looked over Ward Masen and scrunched his eyes a bit, trying to imagine the injured man with a full beard and longer hair. He puffed up his chest and hooked his thumbs onto his gun belt and nodded.

"Well, well," he gave a self-satisfied snort. "If it ain't Ed Cullen, in the flesh. Never thought we'd catch up with you. Guess you have good ol' Rufus Crane to thank for that."

Sheriff Cheney pressed into the small, quickly-filling, room and looked between Ward and the visiting Sheriff. "Ed Cullen the gun-slinger? Is it true?"

"Course it's true. You ain't callin' me a liar, are you Cheney?" bristled the stranger.

Sheriff Cheney narrowed his eyes at the visitor and responded, "Crowley, this is my jurisdiction. I won't have you come in here, guns ablazing, and removing citizens of my town with no cause. Now step back and let me handle this." Cheney stepped in front of Tyler Crowley, honorable Sheriff of Phoenix, and looked at Ward.

Bella tried to hide the panic in her face as the two sheriffs stared down her man. Ward on the other hand was resigned. If he didn't stand up and somehow clear his name, he'd always be on the run. That was no way to live a life and for the first time, he had a life worth living. It twisted him up inside to know that he was leaving Bella, but when faced with the facts of the matter, there was really nothing to be done. Slowly he hefted himself upright in bed and took a deep breath. His ribs were still sore from the beating he'd taken before being left for dead.

"Yes. It's true. My name is Edward Cullen. Masen was my mother's maiden name."

"Eddie no," Bella's strangled whisper just about broke his heart into a thousand pieces, but the words couldn't be taken back.

Sheriff Cheney looked grim and disappointed. He shook his head and asked, "Did you kill Michael Newton?"

"In self-defense. Yes." His answer was short and clipped, but true. He'd had nothing to gain by killing the boy beside the preservation of his own life.

"That's a load of hogwash if I ever heard one. But it don't matter one way or the other. I got a warrant for his arrest. He's to stand trial in Phoenix," Crowley announced, muttering under his breath, "if he makes it to Phoenix."

Cheney got right in Crowly's face. "I'll send my deputy just to make sure everything's square. I don't like you, Crowley, and I don't trust you any further than I could throw you. I don't know what kind of show you run down in Phoenix, but Mas...Cullen better get a fair trial."

Crowley sneered and nodded grimly as he exited the room. "He'll get what's coming to him. I want to leave in one hour. My posse will be waiting at the saloon." He stomped loudly down the stairs and let the screen door whack loudly against the outside of the house as he stormed away.

"Well Ed, looks like you're up a creek. Hope you've got a plan," said Sheriff Cheney as he regarded the man who he now felt justified in being suspicious about. "Don't make me hunt you down. Be over at the saloon on time alright?" Ward nodded his head as the lawman tipped his hat and exited the room.

"Do y'all need anything?" Alice asked as she looked between Ward and Bella. "I'll bring up some breakfast in a jiff. I'm so...I'll just leave you two be." She bustled out of the room, casting a sympathetic glance over her shoulder in Bella's direction.

The room was quiet and blanketed in a thick layer of tension. It seemed as though Bella's worst nightmare was coming true, just when she'd started to feel safe again. Just when she had someone to care about; someone who cared about her. She tried to stifle the sob that was working its way up her throat, but it became impossible to stop. Just as the broken sound left her mouth, strong arms encircled her and Edward was whispering in her ear.

"Don't cry, darlin'. Things will work out. You'll see."

"What's going to happen?" she asked, not really wanting to know, but needing to all the same.

"Everything's going to be fine, sweetheart. This ain't nothing but a little detour." He pressed a kiss to her head and squeezed his arms a little tighter, being mindful of her injured shoulder. She squirmed slightly and shook her head. Bella leaned back to look into his eyes; those sparkling green eyes she loved so much.

"Don't do that. Don't tell me pretty things and say everything's gonna be fine. Everything is most certainly _not_ fine, if they're taking you away from me." The dam burst open and her tears flowed freely down her cheeks as her body shook with grief.

His anger toward that stupid, arrogant boy flared like a brush fire. How dare Mike Newton bring down this kind of trouble on him, all for his pride. But he couldn't help thinking that if it weren't for all the mess with Newton, he may not have ended up in Devil's Fork. He rubbed Bella's back and slowly brought her chin up.

"I don't know what's going to happen down in Phoenix. I do know that there's never been a scrape I haven't been able to git out of yet. I don't intend for this to be the first." His fingers moved to softly stoke her jaw line as he continued, "I do intend to come back here when all's said and done. I'm gonna come back here, and marry you, do you hear? And make lots of brown-haired, green-eyed babies with you, and make our ranch the most prosperous one in the whole territory. I love you, Isabella Swan. And I will come back for you. Don't you ever doubt that."

Bella gasped at his declaration and felt her heart beat jump. "Promise?" she asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks and clinging more tightly to him, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, that couldn't match the pain in her heart at the thought of him leaving.

"I cross my heart," he whispered as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a soft and longing kiss. She clutched desperately at the shirt Jasper had given him, clinging with all her strength as their lips danced together, pressing her lips more firmly against his and savoring every sensation that coursed through her.

"I love you too, Edward." She reached up with her good arm and stroked his clean-shaven face, brushing her thumb across his reddened lips. He kissed her thumb and then brought her palm to his lips and kissed again.

With their time running short, Bella helped Ward unbind his foot. It was badly bruised, and still swollen, but not nearly as bad as it had been the day before. He stifled a grunt of pain as he stuffed it into his boot and stood up bearing most of the weight on his other leg.

Bella offered her good shoulder to him but he stubbornly refused, insisting on hobbling down the stairs on his own, Bella by his side. Ward held his head up proud though; he had nothing to be ashamed of. Jasper and Alice followed them solemnly to Emmett's saloon where a group of three men, including Sheriff Crowley, waited by the hitching post.

Emmett stood on the top step of the boardwalk, just behind Rosalita, who was glowering at the unwelcome party from Phoenix. She fingered the edge of her whip and caught the eye of one of the posse. He raised a brow ever so slightly, eliciting a sharp hiss from the Spanish viper.

A large enough crowd had begun to gather and watch what was going on in front of the saloon. As Ward and Bella's group closed in on the saloon, Sheriff Cheney and a man with his hat pulled low came in from the opposite direction.

"Well, looks like the gang's all here," sneered Sheriff Crowley in Ward's general direction. "Why, ain't it sweet; you've got yer own send-off party and everything."

"Shut it, Crowley. This is my deputy; he'll be escorting Mr...ah...Cullen, and seeing to it that he has his day in court."

The man stepped forward and lifted the brim of his hat only slightly. Bella gasped and Ward simply raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "Howdy folks. Ed?" The man had a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he tipped forward in a slight bow.

Ward nodded and felt a great sense of peace wash over him. Maybe things weren't quite as desperate as they had been an hour ago. "How'do, James? Seems like this area is awash in miraculous resurrections, wouldn't you say?"

"Can't say I'm too familiar with what you're speakin' about." He winked at Bella and then walked toward Sheriff Crowley with an outstretched hand. He skirted widely around Rosalita, avoiding her gaze entirely, though the light cluck of her tongue rang in his ears.

"Será mejor que lo mantienen seguro o que se me han de tratar, mi amor," breathed Rosalita in a low and menacing voice. James looked up but not quite into her eyes, nodded once and returned to making nice with the posse.

"Well boys," Crowley growled, "let's put him in irons and saddle up. I'm done wastin' my time in this two bit town." The Phoenix sheriff lifted his chin toward the burlier of his deputies who hurried to do his bidding and quickly retrieved a pair of rusty shackles.

The finality of the situation came crashing down on Bella. She clung to the front of Ward's shirt and looked up into his relaxed face. "You come back, you hear me? I can't...I..." she paused as her voice failed her. "You keep your word Eddie. Don't leave me alone again."

He dipped his head low and whispered against her lips. "I promise my sweet honey. I love you." He pressed his mouth to her trembling lips and closed his eyes, drinking in the softness of her embrace. The warm tears flowed uninhibited down Bella's cheeks, leaving a faint salty taste on Ward's lips as the couple was roughly pulled apart.

Bella was braced on either side by Jasper and Alice as she watched helplessly while Ward's hands were shackled together and James helped him up on to his horse. He gave a stoic nod to James and took the reins in his hands and kicked his faithful horse into motion.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look back at his love. Her agonized wail of "NO!" sliced through the otherwise silent Main Street. He clenched his jaw tightly and took several deep breaths before settling in for the long and arduous ride back to Phoenix.

Behind him, Jasper helped ease Bella to the ground as she crumpled to her knees. Alice knelt next to the anguish-filled woman and pulled her close, giving her a strong shoulder on which to sob. It would be the first of many such episodes over the next couple of weeks. The crowd began to dissipate and not even one person dared to call her Crazy Izzy anymore.

It wasn't more than a few minutes after the group bound for Phoenix had fallen out of sight that Jacob came riding up to the front of Emmett's saloon, taking in the small contingent of people still gathered there.

"Bella! What's going on?" he yelled, as he leapt from his pinto. "I just came from your ranch. What happened?"

She looked up at the young man who had been her friend through thick and thin. They'd both experienced tremendous losses over the last few years and Bella found a small measure of comfort in Jacob's presence.

"That doesn't matter now," she cried. "They took him Jake. They took Edward back to Phoenix. He's being tried for murder."

"Oh Bells. I'm so sorry. What happened?

Jasper quickly gave Jake the short version of what had transpired in the last day, culminating in Ward's arrest.

"What can I do?" Jake said as he looked down gently at Bella.

"Nothing. Unless you have some kind of magic that can get him out of these charges, there's nothing."

"I'll follow them. You never know what could happen."

"You would really go?"

"For you Dizzybells, I would do anything. Let me talk to Sheriff Cheney about the Elders, and then I'll leave right away."

Jacob followed Cheney back to the jail, where the Elders were recuperating from their mistreatment by the Valentines. The cell doors were all unlocked and opened, making it clear that the Hualapai leadership were merely using the facilities to recover and were free to go when they were ready. Jacob looked upon his father's haggard appearance, saddened by the gauntness of his cheeks and the slump of his burdened shoulders. They conversed briefly in their native tongue, and with a brief embrace and firm handshake, Jacob hopped on his painted pony and followed the trail left by the departing posse.

It was hard for Bella to find the desire to eat, let alone get up and do anything. After Ward had been hauled away, she remained curled up in bed, nibbling at toast and sipping the weak chamomile tea that Alice would bring her.

Alice was more than worried about her friend. Even after her Pa died, Bella had never been quite this disconnected. After four days, she'd had enough and all but forced Bella to come down to her shop. Bella floated through the space like a sleepwalker, sweeping the porch, folding and unfolding handkerchiefs, and straightening rows of hats and shoes that were already straight, without really seeing anything. She hardly spoke, wearing a blank expression on her face.

Days blended together, and the group of friends shuttled Bella between their respective establishments in an effort to keep her occupied and functioning. But she was just barely doing that. She could only stand one day at Rosalita's, though she finally learned why James was so skittish around her.

Emmett's saloon was probably her second favorite place to be after Alice's shop. The jovial atmosphere helped in a small measure to numb her emotions. She would sit and listen to the piano as she mindlessly wiped glasses with a rag. Em tried a few times to coax her on to the dance floor, but her demeanor would instantly darken, and her eyes would fill with moisture.

Almost two weeks after Ward had been taken away, Bella was working in the bank with Jasper. He had her filing some papers when a message came in over the telegraph line. It had only been a few months since Devil's Fork had been on the line, so any incoming message was still a big deal.

"Jasper there's something coming in on the telegraph," Bella called out.

He hurried over to the small desk and quickly tapped in the answering code, before taking up the pen and dipping it in the ink well as he waited for the incoming message. The new device began to click and Jasper listened carefully to the taps before transferring the message to the waiting paper. Scratching quickly, he jotted down the incoming words, slamming the pen down at the conclusion of the transmission.

Bella jumped a bit at the unusually loud noise; the bank was generally one of the quietest places in the town. "What is it Jasper?"

"It's...uh...news. About Ward." He looked over at Bella who had put a hand out on the counter to steady herself.

"What's the news? When's he coming ho..." Her voice broke when she saw the expression Jasper wore. All of the blood had drained away from his face and it left a heavy, crushing feeling in the pit of Bella's stomach. "No. No," she began shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry Bella. He-,"

"NO!" interrupted Bella. "He promised," she sobbed.

"It's not his fault, Bella," Jasper whispered as he pulled her into his chest. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "He's been sentenced to hang tomorrow at noon."

… … …

**Melly: Hey, Belly…**

**Belly: Yes , Melly? **

**Melly: Can I get a "dun dun dun"?**

**Belly: Oh, yes. And I'll hide with you when our readers come to lynch us for wanting to string up our sexy gunslinger. **

**Melly: So remember last chapter how you were gloating that you got to nurse Ward's wounds and assist him in his convalescence?**

**Belly: I know, I know. I got in over my head in real life and you had to step out and take the lead on that nursing job. I'm so glad you found the fortitude to soldier on and nurse that ... hot, sweaty, sexy gunslinger.**

**Melly: I'll just keep the sponge bath scene to myself then...**

**Belly: I'll just bet you will! hehe. By the way, do you think I should tell our readers about my kissing adventure this weekend?**

**Melly: Oh by all means. Shout it from the rooftops Sweet Honey! (which is what my 4 ½ year old calls me)**

**Belly: Oh, that is so precious! Sweet Honey. I'll have to remember that. I went to Charlotte to the Twilight Convention this weekend and, yes, I kissed my darling PFach again. This time I got a picture of it.**

**Melly: So now we get to pray for our Sexy gunslinger and sigh over real life smoochin' on Pfach.**

**Belly & Melly: Amen! * sigh ***


	13. Death and Destiny

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. **

**Our awesome beta, SweetThunder, had some real life stuff this time, so Melly and I just did out own thing this chapter.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope you will join us in our sandbox. **

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

**The Marksman **

**Chapter 13 – Death and Destiny**

The sun beat down relentlessly on the uncovered head of the condemned man as he was led from the jail house to the town square where gallows had been hastily constructed.

His face burned and the coppery taste of blood stayed in his mouth from the still seeping wound on his lip. His right eye was partially swollen and his jaw was stiff and bruised. The dark discolorations were partially hidden in the thick growth of beard on his face. Pain shot through his body with every step from his freshly re-cracked ribs. The sheriff and his deputy had done a number on him as soon as James was out of sight, that was for sure.

A crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle unfold and the people were unnaturally quiet as all eyes were riveted on the dead man walking. Ward could feel the cold stares from the town's people and hear the rasping of the rope in the hangman's hands. A chill ran unbidden down his spine as he climbed the rickety steps to the platform. He heard the low voice of the local vicar as he read softly from the open Bible in his hands before turning away with a look of pity in his eyes.

At least he could be thankful that Bella wasn't here to see him hang. He was both glad and filled with sorrow that he wouldn't be seeing her beautiful brown eyes again. Would she cry? Would she mourn for him? Her face was the last thought on his mind before the black hood was drawn over his head, blocking his gaze forever.

He felt the noose being lowered roughly over his head and adjusted slightly. He couldn't help hoping that the knot was positioned right so that his neck would be broken instead of just choking him to death. He heard the creaking of the handle and the scraping sound of wood against wood as the trap door swung open. He felt the burning pull as the rope tightened around his throat…

... ...

Ward sat bolt upright on the shaky cot where he had passed out a few hours before. His hand moved to his neck almost expecting to find the rope that had been so vivid in his dream. He gasped in pain as the sudden movement caused his sore ribs to rub together. Too bad the beating he'd taken from the Sheriff and his Deputy hadn't been a dream too, he thought as he gingerly moved his body around and planted his feet on the floor.

He didn't know how long he had been out, but from the almost non-existent shadows on the floor, it was probably around noon. He hadn't seen Jake or James since the verdict had been read that morning but he hoped they had luck finding another witness. He didn't fancy dancing at the end of a rope.

########

"Do you think that was a good move, Jake?" James asked his new-found friend as they stepped out of the telegraph office.

"I promised Jasper I would let him know when anything happened."

"That's all well and good, but this is pretty serious news. What about Izzy? This isn't the kind of news I'd want my woman to hear from a telegram." James said with a worried shake of his head.

"Well, let's just hope she doesn't find out until we have better news to send her. Which brings me to our next problem: We have to find a way to get Ward out of this mess. There has to be another witness willing to talk somewhere in this God-forsaken town."

James nodded in agreement. "At least the Territorial Marshall should be here today. Maybe with his help, Ward will get some justice."

"Unless Newton owns him too," Jake interjected.

James shook his head. "I don't think so or I never would have wired him to come here. I've heard of this man and he's a straight arrow. Honest as the day is long. Billy will let us know as soon as he arrives at the hotel."

"I hope you're right," Jake sighed. "I don't think Bells could stand losing another person in her life."

######

Jake and James had joined forces shortly after Ward had been delivered to Phoenix. As soon as he had been incarcerated in their jail, the Sheriff and his Deputy had made it plain that James was out of his jurisdiction and had forbidden him from any contact with their prisoner. Needless to say, they had refused to let Jake speak to him too.

So, out of necessity, the two had joined forces to see what they could do to clear Ward's name. As they couldn't speak to Ward by conventional means, they had to get inventive. They discovered that the temporary deputy the Sheriff had hired to watch Ward at night tended to sleep on the job, so they were able to talk to Ward through the window to his cell late at night. They discussed a simple breakout, but Ward insisted that he wanted to clear his name once and for all. He intended to settle down in Devil's Fork and didn't want to be constantly looking over his shoulder for the law. That being the case, they had to find a witness.

Ward was the one that suggested they look up the livery boy named Billy. Seems young Billy had helped Ward break out of jail right after the shooting. The kid was amazing. He knew more about what went on in this town than anyone because he knew how to keep his mouth shut and his ears and eyes open. He was the one that had remembered the Indian that had passed through town that day. He claimed the young brave, known as Seth Clearwater, had spoken with him after Ward escaped jail and told him he had seen the whole thing. Ward was telling the truth; it had been self defense. But since Ward had escaped jail, there had been no reason for him to stay in town and tell his story to authorities.

The hard part was finding him. Again, the kid had been an invaluable resource and remembered that the Indian had said he had traveled from the north on his way to visit with the Apache. His sister had met and married an Apache brave when a hunting party had traveled north to hunt on their lands. He had been invited to live with them.

It had taken the better part of a week to travel to the tribal lands, find the young man in question, and for Jake to convince him to return to Phoenix to testify on Ward's behalf. Too bad it had been a useless trip. The judge tended to side with the Newton's attorney that the "Injun" wasn't a reliable witness. Seeing the writing on the wall, James had decided to wire the Marshall. Sure enough, despite Seth Clearwater's testimony, Ward had been found guilty. The hanging was scheduled for high noon on Friday. This was Thursday; something had to be done.

After visiting and reassuring a somewhat despondent Ward that, one way or another, they'd make sure he didn't hang, Jake and James headed off to the local saloon. They had nearly made it to the hotel when they saw young Billy escorting a tall, muscular stranger down the boardwalk toward them. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and sported a shiny gold star on his vest.

James stuck his hand out in greeting. "Marshall, I'm James Dunbar. I sent you the telegram."

The Marshall shook James' hand. "Dunbar. The name's Earp, Wyatt Earp. Good to make your acquaintance."

The Marshall turned and gave Jake the once over, as James made introductions, then gave him a smile and shook his hand too.

"Why don't you boys fill me in on what's going on here." He looked around, noticing that they were starting to draw the curious stares of the locals, and said, "Let's walk."

As the three men, followed closely by young Billy, slowly walked the distance from the hotel to the saloon, James filled the Marshall in on the story. As they approached the swinging doors, James paused and said, "I'm sure you're thirsty after your ride. Let's stop in here for a beer. By the way, it might be helpful if we didn't advertise your occupation, if you get my drift," his eyes fixed on the Marshall's badge.

"From what you've told me, you might be right." The Marshall reached up and unpinned the badge, storing it in his vest pocket.

Billy took up a seat on the edge of the boardwalk after telling James, "I'll keep a lookout." A lookout for what, James wasn't sure, but he gave the boy a grin before the three men turned and entered the establishment.

The barkeep eyed the threesome nervously as they made their way across the room. The men gave the place the once-over, noticing that it was empty save for the saloon girl and a lone cowboy drowning his troubles at the end of the bar. Satisfied that the place was nearly deserted, they moved on over to the bar.

The bartender had refused earlier in the week to serve alcohol to "the Injun", but that didn't bother Jake. He didn't drink anyway, preferring to keep his wits about him when visiting a strange place.

"What'll it be, boys?" the barkeep asked, giving Jake a look that said _not you _to which Jake just shrugged and took up a chair at a nearby table facing the door.

"Beer," was the reply from both James and the Marshall.

The bartender hastened to fill their order.

"You're 'em friends of Ed Cullen, ain't ye?" a somewhat slurred voice called from the far end of the bar.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" James answered.

"It's gonna be a pleasure to see him swing tomorrow for what he did to my buddy, Mike."

James and the Marshall could tell the young man had been drinking for a while as they stepped a little closer to his end of the bar.

"Maybe he will and maybe he won't," James said, giving the inebriated man a sideways look.

"Oh, he'll hang, for sure. Mr. Newton wants it, and what Mr. Newton wants, Mr. Newton gets, at least in this here town."

James and the Marshall exchanged glances and realized that maybe this man knew more about the shooting than he was telling.

"So you were a friend of Young Newton?" James asked in a friendly manner.

The young man looked at him glumly. "He was my best friend."

James sent a knowing look in the Marshall's direction again before turning his attention back to the young man. "Well, why don't you let me buy you a drink to show my condolences for your loss."

The young man eyed James with blood-shot and somewhat suspicious eyes. "Why would you want to buy me a drink? It's your friend that'll be swinging tomorrow."

James gave him a warm, but totally fake, smile and said, "Well no matter the circumstances, you still lost a friend. I want to buy you a drink."

The young man swayed a little as he tried to size James up before he slumped back against the bar and said, "Much obliged."

James turned to the barkeep, "Another whiskey for my friend…," he turned a questioning eyebrow to the young man.

"Rick. Rick Cassidy."

"For my friend, Rick."

James was silent as they watched the bartender pour the young man's drink and place it on the bar in front of him. James picked up his mug of beer and raised it in a toast, "To young Newton, may he rest in peace." He brought the mug to his lips but took only a slight sip, figuring that remaining sober was the most prudent move in this instance, while the young man downed his drink in one swallow. James motioned to the bartender to re-fill the glass.

"So how long had you been acquainted with young Newton?" James continued with his friendly conversation.

"Ever since I rode into town 'bout three years ago. He got me my first job over on his Pa's spread."

"I thought Mr. Newton owned the General Store?"

"Big Mike Newton owns half this town and a goodly portion of the land round here. His word is pretty much law in these parts."

Again James and the Marshall shared a look. They had already discussed that little fact. "So, it must have been hard on you when he died. Were you there, at the gunfight, I mean?" James asked in a consolatory tone, watching Rick closely.

It seemed as if the liquor had opened the floodgates and the young cowboy couldn't wait to get it off his chest.

"I tried to talk him out of it. I knew that gunslinger had more notches in his gun-belt than Mike had brains, but he wouldn't listen. He said he'd been a practicing and he thought he could take him. Durn fool! I tried to tell him, God knows, I tried." The young man hung his head in sorrow and remorse.

"I'm sure you did all you could. Sometimes people just won't listen no matter what you do," James spoke quietly, encouraging the conversation to continue.

"Mike saw him go down the street from the hotel and waited here in the saloon 'til he came out of his daddy's store. Then he walked out and started flingin' out insults, trying to get Cullen to fight him."

"And that's when he got shot?"

"No. Cullen just eyed Mike down and asked him did he really want to die today. Mike got a little scared, I reckon, and came back in the saloon."

"Then how did the fight happen?"

Rick hung his head a little lower before rising up and downing his drink in one gulp before continuing in a slurred voice. "Mike wouldn't leave well enough alone. He started mumblin' somethin' 'bout not lettin' that worshed up gunslinger make a fool outta him and headed back out the doors. Me and Joe here," he pointed toward the bartender, "we tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen… he wouldn't listen…"

As Rick's voice trailed off, James and Earp turned their heads and leveled their gazes on the bartender, who looked for all the world like a man with something to hide. Before they could find out, Rick began to talk again.

"We followed as far as the doors when we seen Mike start to draw. Ed Cullen had his back to Mike and still out drew him… Durn fool… I tried to tell him…"

Rick's voice dropped to a low mumbling and James figured he was just shy of passing out. He and Earp now turned their attention back to the bartender.

"You got something you want to tell us," Marshall Earp asked slowly as he pulled his badge out of his pocket and pinned it back on his vest.

Joe's eyes got big as saucers as he watched the Marshall's slow movements, then cut to James before moving back to rest on the law man.

"You don't understand, Mr. Newton owns this town and most of the people in it. You try to fight him and you pay a price."

James gave him a look of disgust. "So you figured it was okay for a man to be hanged for murder over somethin' that was self-defense?"

"I just didn't want to get into it with Big Mike. Rick told him what we saw and he made it known that it shore would be a shame for the town saloon to burn to the ground." Joe twisted up his mouth a little at the thought. "The Nugget is all I got, and folks know that Big Mike don't make idle threats."

"So you were threatened into withholding your testimony?" the Marshall asked quietly.

Joe just nodded his head.

Marshall Earp looked at James for a moment before coming to a decision. "This could be trickier than we thought. We're going to have to figure out a way to get that judge to change his mind about his verdict." He turned back to the bartender. "You just sit tight. You agree to give your testimony and I promise you'll be protected. With any luck, we'll be able to turn the tables on this Newton fella."

Joe looked scared but nodded his head. "You best be careful who you talk to in this town. Like I said, half the people are bought and paid for personally by Mr. Newton."

"Thanks for the warning," James said as he and Earp headed back out, closely followed by Jake.

"So what's your plan, Marshall?" Jake asked as they reached the boardwalk.

"The first thing we have to do is get to know as much about Big Mike Newton as we can. When you know enough about a man, you can find a weakness. We just have to find Big Mike Newton's weak spot."

"Maybe I can help." Billy's voice cut between the two men.

The Marshall looked the kid up and down as if just now noticing that he was still hanging around. He gave first Jake and then James a questioning glance.

"Ward says the kid can be mighty handy at times. Seems he knows a lot about what goes on in this town," explained James.

The Marshall took in James' words, nodding slowly and turning to look at the kid with new eyes. "You know a lot about what happens in this town?"

"I reckon I know enough," replied young Billy.

"What can you tell me about the dealings of Big Mike Newton."

"I kin tell ya that he's a fixin' to git hisself elected the next territorial Governor," the youngster told him with a grin.

"Oh, he is, is he?" The Marshall gave James knowing look. "Well, isn't that interesting, Mr. Dunbar."

James just looked at him for a moment before he caught the message behind the look. He nodded as a slow smile tugged at his lips. "That it is, Marshall, that it is."

"I'll just bet our Mr. Newton wouldn't like the voters finding out he tried to have an innocent man hanged for an act of self defense."

James' smile got wider. "I'll bet you're right."

"Kid," the Marshall called to the boy. "Can we trust the local newspaper man?"

Billy gave him a toothy grin and answered, "Burt Brannigan's one of the few people in this here town that Big Mike Newton don't own."

"Then what are we waiting for," James replied. "Let's get to the newspaper office."

"Foller me," the kid called as he was already headed down the street.

It was a little after one in the afternoon when Marshall Earp, James, Jake, and young Billy left the newspaper office. Mr. Brannigan's day was made with the information James and Jacob provided, and hopefully he had enough to give the court of public opinion plenty of fodder against Newton Sr. The Marshall turned to James on the boardwalk, swiping his brow with a clean handkerchief.

"Okay, the next thing I have to do is pay a visit to the local judge. Fill him in on the new witnesses we have."

"Marshall, that might pose a problem," James said as he rubbed his stubbled chin with a wary hand. "You see, it was the Circuit Judge, and he only comes through here once a month."

The Marshall turned and gave James and Jake a serious look. "Then it's your job to track him down and get him back here before noon tomorrow. Do you two think you can do that?"

Young Billy piped up, "I heared the Judge a tellin' the desk clerk at the hotel that he was a headin' for Tuscon."

James shook his head a little before saying, "That's a good five hours of hard riding, not to mention the time it'll take to convince that judge to come back with us."

The Marshall considered the two men thoughtfully for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion. He looked squarely at James before asking, "You real attached to that Deputy Sheriff job of yours?"

"Well, the opportunity arose, so I took it. Can't say as I've had much time getting accustomed to wearing the shoes though," James drawled out.

"How'd you like to move up a little? Become a Deputy Marshall instead?"

James gave him a crooked grin. "What does it pay?"

"Enough."

"Then I guess I'm your man."

"Good, 'cause it will be a lot easier for a Deputy Marshall to convince that judge to come back to Phoenix than a Deputy Sheriff from a town over two hundred miles away. And a little redskin muscle never hurt anything neither,"

he said looking appreciatively at Jake's stature. Jake simply nodded in acceptance of the slightly backhanded compliment.

They followed the Marshall back to the hotel where he produced a Deputy Marshall badge from his saddlebags and handed it to James.

"You two get going. I'm going to have a friendly chat with the Sheriff and let him know that I have a little more jurisdiction than he does and make sure your friend lives long enough for you to bring that judge to town."

"Willing or not, we'll have him here by noon." Jake assured the Marshall.

"Good luck, men. Your friend's life will depend on your success." The Marshall sent them on their way with a smile and a handshake.

#######

Ward was pulled out of his gloomy thoughts on the situation he found himself in by the commotion and raised voices coming from the outer room.

"I don't care who you are, that man in there is my prisoner, and until I hear differently from the circuit judge, that man will hang at noon tomorrow." Ward cringed at the weaselly sound of the Sheriff's voice.

"And I'm telling you that I'm the territorial Marshall and I've uncovered new evidence proving that your prisoner is innocent." Ward sat up a little straighter as he heard the words spoken by the newcomer.

"Well, until that evidence is presented to the judge and he makes a decision, this hangin' will go on as planned."

"Sheriff, you do realize that you're speaking to the territorial Marshall, don't you?"

"I don't care if you're the territorial _Governor, _the judge's verdict stands until he says differently."

"You're making a big mistake here, Sheriff."

"No, I think it's you what's made a mistake if you think you can come in here with your fancy badge and tell me how to run my job."

"If you allow an innocent man to hang, then you won't have a job to worry about for very long."

"Well, that's a chance I'll have to take. Now you best get out of my jail before I forget I ever saw that shiny Marshall's badge."

Ward could hear the sound of a pistol hammer being drawn back and then the parting words of the Marshall.

"I'll leave, but you best be sure you keep that _prisoner_ nice and healthy until noon tomorrow."

The Sheriff just snorted before Ward heard the slamming sound of the door.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, Ward was jerked out of his musings by the mealy mouth of the Sheriff.

"Hey, Cullen, whaddaya want for your last meal? I can have the hotel fix you anything you want, as long as its stew." He threw back his head and laughed at what he perceived to be a very funny joke.

Ward just looked at him with smoldering hatred and didn't answer.

"I hope you ain't pinning your hopes on what that Marshall said yesterday. There's no way that judge is going to change his mind, not if Big Mike Newton has anything to say about it." The snicker died in his throat as he continued to look into the cold, unwavering eyes of the condemned gunslinger. The Sheriff couldn't help the involuntary shiver that ran down his spine before he turned on his heel and left the room.

The sun was nearly at it's high point when Ward was led from his cell, hands shackled in front of him. The Sheriff threw a sideways look at Ward's untouched dinner before prodding him none too gently in the back with the barrel of his gun.

You would never be able to tell from his demeanor, but Ward felt as if he had walked this walk before as he remembered his vivid dream. As he walked, he couldn't help thinking that apparently the evidence that the Marshall had been counting on hadn't come through. He couldn't help thinking of Bella and how he was going to break his promise to her. He wouldn't be making it back. He'd never be there to make her his wife, be a father to her children, help her run the ranch. All those thing were lost to him.

As he approached the gallows, he wondered how she would take the news. She had lost so much already in her young life. How many tears would she shed over him? Would she stay in Devil's Fork and try to make a go of the ranch by herself? Would she find someone else to replace him? As much as it killed him to think of her with another man, he knew he didn't want her to be alone. He wanted her to live a long and happy life. More than anything, he wanted Bella to be happy.

As he climbed the steps to the platform, he was again struck by the similarity to his dream, even down to the local vicar reading from the Bible. The only difference seemed to be the absence of the hood. They placed nothing over his head save the noose. He hoped the drop was long enough to just break his neck and get it over with. He'd seen one too many a man kickin' and fightin' for ten minutes and longer. As the hangman bound his legs together he threw up one more silent prayer to the sky that he might be spared from his fate. When the final knot in the binding was tied, there was no more time to ask anything as the man moved to the side and placed his hand on the trap door lever.

Ward blocked out the sea of nameless faces save one. He set his stony stare on Mike Newton Sr. and never let his gaze falter, willing the man to feel the guilt of his death before mentally preparing himself for what was to come. The scraping of the trap door and the pounding of his heart thundering in his ears drowned out any other sounds that might have been heard.

Then he felt himself falling...

***Unnamed Cave, undisclosed location, Belly and Melly are snickering and dancing around a small campfire***

**Belly: Pssst, Melly**

**Melly: Yes, Belly…**

**Belly: How long do you think we'll have to hide out in this cave? Do we have enough provisions to last a week? **

**Melly: ****I think we've got enough to last a week. Besides that should be plenty of time. I'm feeling inspired and will endeavor to write Ward out of this predicament in which he finds himself.**

**Belly: Cause you're awesome that way, and you know you won't be able to sleep until this whole thing is cleaned up. Sorry to leave you with such a cliffy. **

**Melly: ****Well the cliffy is totally all my fault. I think the readers would've liked your ending better, but I was feeling in a particularly wicked mood...**

**Belly: ****But I did get him all scruffed up again so you could practice your mad nursing skills****. **

**Melly: ****I like the idea of cleaning Ward up, so with that thought on the brain...**

**Belly & Melly: * sigh ***


	14. Resurrection!

**A/N: Hello, again, lovely readers. **

**Our awesome beta, SweetThunder, was back on the job for this chapter, adding her special touch to make it just that much more awesome. **

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we like to play with him. We hope you will join us in our sandbox. **

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Westward**

# # # # # # #

**The Marksman**

**Chapter 14 -** **Resurrection!**

The rotund man sat behind his lavish mahogany desk sipping his morning coffee and feeling quite pleased with the way things were turning out. His sniveling, no account son was no longer a blight to his reputation; in fact Junior's death had proved to be a boon to his approval ratings in the polls. And to have the famed Ed Cullen attached as the convicted murderer just put the cherry on top.

Pulling out a well-worn handkerchief from his breast pocket, he mopped the beads of sweat that collected on his shiny pate, before relighting the stumpy cigar that dangled between his stubby, sausage-like fingers. He took a few puffs before the door to his office was unceremoniously flung open by a tall man with dark hair and a mustache that rivaled his own.

"What's the meaning of this intrusion?" he bellowed, all but losing his grip on his cigar in his startled surprise.

"The name's Wyatt Earp, Territorial Marshal, and I've got a message for you Newton."

Mike Newton Senior quickly regained his composure, staring coldly at the lawman as he leaned back in his large leather chair and squinted his beady eyes. He took several puffs on his cigar before exhaling the smoke in little rings. He examined the man that barged into his private office above the general store, with a look of simmering disdain. How dare anyone, lawman or otherwise, deign to thrust their presence on him without warning.

"Oh, you have, do you? Well then, by all means, have your say," he said with an evil menace to his voice.

"The circuit judge is on his way back to hear new evidence in the Cullen case. You and I both know the man is innocent. If you come clean now and drop the charges, we can avoid a whole lot of unpleasantness later."

"I'll do no such thing. That cur shot my son in cold blood and I'll be the first to cheer when he hangs at noon today." He stood up behind his desk attempting to muster all the presence his five-foot-seven frame could muster; he was nearly as wide as he was tall.

"Well, then I hope that your conscience can handle the death of an innocent man, though I don't think it'll come to that."

"He's only as innocent as I say he is and I'll see that criminal hanged if it's the last thing I do!" shouted Newton, his face turning a bright shade of red.

"It may just be," Mr. Earp gave a sharp nod of his head and backed out of the office, leaving Big Mike Newton to stew in his own thoughts until high noon.

**# # # # # #**

Bella was going stir crazy in Alice's shop; she couldn't focus on anything. She was beside herself with worry and her hands wouldn't stop shaking. The small watch that she had pinned to her chest ticked ruthlessly on, every second getting closer and closer to high noon.

"I can't stand it anymore Alice. I have to go check and see if there's any word from Phoenix," Bella said as she marched to the door.

"I know you do sweetheart. I'll be here for you, come what may." Alice rushed to her friend and gathered her in a fierce embrace before watching her run down the boardwalk to the bank.

Bella's lungs were burning by the time she reached the end of Main Street and threw herself into the bank. Jasper's eyes shot up, his face showing concern when he saw who had just come in.

"Any word Jasper? Anything at all?" Bella's voice was desperate with need and fear.

"I'm sorry Bella, there's been nothing all morning long."

She swallowed back her tears, nodded and wandered quietly out of the bank, a numbness overtaking her entire being. Without thinking, she made her way to the livery stable and asked the boy there to saddle up her horse. She climbed up and rode hard all the way out to her ranch.

She looped the reins over a low-hanging tree branch and began wandering through the remains of her home. She closed her eyes and, as painful as it was, allowed herself to imagine what life could've been like for her and Eddie. They'd have rebuilt the house, maybe even made it a bit bigger to allow for children. The outbuildings would have been restored one by one, and the fields would no longer be barren.

She shook her head slightly as she came out of her musings, realizing that would never happen now. She glanced down at the watch again and saw that it was nearing one o'clock. This time when she closed her eyes she could no longer hold off the thoughts of Phoenix at high noon. A tear streaked down her face and she was bombarded by images of her Eddie, her man, swinging by his neck. She snapped her eyes open, forcefully pushing those thoughts into her subconscious once more, unwilling to allow such awful pictures to run through her mind.

It was close to dark by the time she made it back to Alice and Jasper's home. When Alice heard the horse, she ran out on to the porch, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

The numbness had settled over Bella's heart again, but she forced herself to ask one more time. "Any news?"

"No honey, I'm so sorry," Alice whispered. "I'm so very sorry."

She opened her arms and clutched at her friend before the two women collapsed on the porch and cried.

# # # # # # #

The drop wasn't long enough. As Ward fell, the rope cinched tighter around his neck cutting off all the circulation to his brain and air to his lungs. He reached up with his bound hands scratching and grasping at the rope that was slowly strangling the life out of him. Stars and lights flashed before his eyes as a heavy curtain of blackness veiled his mind.

# # # # # # #

"Dammit," shouted James as he leaned forward on his mount, urging it onward at top speed. He and Jacob were entering the town limits with a very reluctant Judge Banner, when they saw from a distance Ward drop through the trap door of the gallows. "Cut him down!" he shouted riding through a quickly parting sea of humanity. "Cut the damn rope!"

Marshal Earp moved to the rickety stairs to cut Ward down, but the Sheriff stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

"Move it Crowley, this is no joke," growled Earp.

"Don't believe I'm laughin', _Earp,_" spat the sheriff. The two men began shoving at one another, ignorant of the small, squirrelly figure pushing his way up the stairs and knocking the surprised hangman back. Billy reached out for the rope and started slicing through the strands with his trusty buck knife. With a deadened thud, Ward's unmoving body fell to the ground. Everything seemed to stand still.

"What the devil is going on here?" shouted Big Mike Newton. "Banner, what is the meaning of this?"

"Seems as though there's new evidence that I need to hear about Cullen's case, provided the poor bastard isn't already dead," replied the circuit judge, still on his horse and looking fairly bored.

"But he's guil..."

"Save it Newton, my hands are tied," Judge Banner snapped.

Jacob and James worked quickly to get the rope from around Ward's neck. His face was ashen, his jaw slack. The two men shared a grave look before removing the bindings from around his legs.

"Sheriff, bring the keys to the hand cuffs," shouted Marshal Earp. With an indignant air, Crowley pushed past the men and and roughly unlatched the shackles; Ward's hands fell limply to the ground.

Calling on all that he had witnessed at his father's side and the small bit of training he'd already received, Jacob began a low chant, ghosting his hands over Ward's face and torso. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out some herbs and grasses and placed them directly under Ward's nose.

"Keep his feet lifted, James," Jacob instructed as he continued his chant. The minutes rolled by, intensifying the tension around the huddle of men.

"He's starting to pink up," murmured the Marshal.

The minutes dragged like hours before a small groan emanated from Ward's dry lips. Shallow, irregular breaths began evening out and without warning, his eyes flew open and he began clawing at his throat.

"Relax pardner, you're off the noose, you're alive. Just breathe," James reassured him. Ward lifted his head, eyes pinched together in pain, gave a very slight nod and relaxed back to the ground.

The Marshal turned to the Judge and said, "We've had some new, more credible witnesses than Clearwater, turn up. It would be a travesty of justice for them to not be heard."

"So I was told on the ride back to this hell-hole," muttered Judge Banner. "We'll give Cullen the night to recover and we'll convene at nine a.m. in the gathering hall."

"He stays in the Jail!" demanded Big Mike, his wide girth pushing through the crowd.

"I will stay with him," offered Jacob.

"Oh no you don't, you filthy Injun," retorted Big Mike.

"Newton! Put a cork in it. I'll stand watch myself the entire night, along with both my deputies. He ain't goin' nowhere," sneered Sheriff Crowley.

"Guess I'll be joinin' the party as well, just to make sure everything's on the up and up," Marshal Earp chimed in, followed by a "me too" from James.

"Now see here, I ain't runnin' a durned hotel..."

Wyatt Earp crossed his arms as he drew himself up to his full height, his large curling mustache twitching just a hair. "I dare you to contradict me, Crowley."

The Sheriff blustered and huffed, but in the end just shook his head and stalked off, yelling at the still-gawking crowd to disperse.

"Bella," Ward croaked from his position on the ground.

James and Jacob gently lifted him up to a seated position. "We'll let her know that you're still alive."

Later that evening, James came back into the jail shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" croaked Ward. His voice was raspy and strained from the pressure the rope had put on his voice box.

"Telegraph line is down. Nothing's coming in or going out," James replied, running his hand through his long wavy hair.

"Bella's going to be out of her mind with worry. I hate putting her-," he paused to clear his throat and take drink, "putting her through all that."

"Rest your voice now, friend. All will work out as it should," Jacob said confidently.

# # # # # # #

"Order!" shouted Judge Banner, banging his gavel on the makeshift bench behind which he was sitting.

"I'd like to call Rick Cassidy to the stand," said Marshal Earp in an even tone.

The young man swore with his hand on The Good Book to tell the truth, and squirmed in his seat as the Marshal's gaze settled on him. Now that he was sober, he very much regretted opening his stupid mouth. Big Mike scowled in his direction and raised one eyebrow as if to say, "remember what you have to lose by ratting me out".

"Mr. Cassidy, can you please describe the events of the morning in question," asked the Marshal.

Rick averted his eyes from Mr. Newton and went on to tell the story he'd told to James and the Marshal just a day or two before. He was interrupted on more than one occasion by the loud curses and objections of Big Mike and his smarmy lawyer.

Judge Banner looked only slightly interested in what Rick was saying, and was exerting minimal effort to keep Big Mike under control.

The bartender, O'Hanlon, also provided his own account of the events of the morning Ed Cullen shot and killed Mike Newton, Jr.

"And Mr. O'Hanlon, did you ever disclose this information to Michael Newton, Sr.?" Asked Earp.

"Yessir, the very same afternoon," replied Joe, with a nervous tremor in his voice.

"Now that's a bald-faced lie if I ever heard one," shouted Big Mike, standing with his thumbs hooked into the small pockets of his white vest, his cigar dangling loosely between his lips.

"And what did Mr. Newton say in response?" The Marshal's voice rode over Newton's shouting as he looked on encouragingly to Mr. O'Hanlon.

"He..He said," Joe gulped and swallowed hard as he took in the scorching glare that Newton was giving him.

"Go on Joe, nothing has changed," the encouraged, stepping in between Joe and Newton, obscuring the intimidating glares coming from the _grieving father_.

"He said that if that it sure would be a shame if my saloon were to burn down if that information ever got out."

A gasp filtered through the crowd of townsfolk as this revelation came to light.

"And were you at all compensated for your silence beyond the safety of your business establishment?"

"Yessir. Big Mike also paid me fifty dollars to keep quiet."

"And why are you now coming forward with this information?"

"'Cause it's the right thing to do. Mr. Cullen tried his best to get young Newton to bugger off, but the kid wouldn't leave well enough alone. It ain't right for Cullen to hang for Newton's foolishness."

"Sounds to me like maybe you might have gotten a better offer to tell this version of the story Mr. O'Hanlon," drawled Judge Banner.

The Marshal looked over his shoulder and nodded to some people at the back of the gathering hall.

"Now Judge Banner, that's an awful strong accusation to make. Especially from a man who's on the take from Big Mike himself."

At this statement, the crowd of observers began whispering and a low hum of excitement rippled through the room.

"Order!" the judge yelled, "I will have order in this court!" Slowly the din died down and all eyes were fixed on the two men who filed up the aisle toward the front of the room. "Just what are you trying to say, Marshal?" Judge Banner asked.

"Mr. Brannigan? I defer to you," the Marshal said stepping aside.

"Thank you, Mr. Earp," Burt Brannigan replied with a slight bow. "Judge, what we're trying say is that you were observed by myself, and the Reverend here, taking a large sum of money, just this morning, from the hands of Mr. Newton around the back of the hotel where you stay when you're in town. The Marshal also observed this transaction, but as he is seeing to the interests of Mr. Cullen, we're not going to count him as a witness."

All of the blood drained from Judge Banner's face and his hands began to shake. All this time, Ward sat with his arms gently folded across his chest, thoroughly grateful for all those who stood by him and had managed to unearth all of the skeletons in Newton's closet.

Brannigan turned around and smiled at Big Mike. "Can't you just see the headline now Mr. Newton? 'Candidate Newton Causes an Innocent Man to Hang'. Wouldn't your constituents just love to read that in the morning paper? Or how about 'Newton has Judge and Sheriff on His Payroll, Innocent Man Dies as a Result'."

"You've got no proof!" shouted Newton.

"Wrong sir. I've got plenty of proof, and plenty of folks willing to testify to all the ways you done them wrong." Brannigan smiled wickedly and nodded to the Marshal, turning the floor back over to him.

"Now Judge, if you'd like some leniency in how you're dealt with when this current mess is through, I suggest you think long and hard about saving your skin. Your career is already shot, so now you just have to decide how long you want to spend in jail." A commotion erupted behind the Marshal as a group held a struggling Big Mike spread-eagle between two men. "You think you're going somewhere, Newton?"

"This is hogwash. All of it. A complete sham. I won't stand for it. Someone has to pay for my son's death!"

"Silence!" shouted a defeated looking Judge Banner. "Mikey paid for his own stupidity. The testimony of Mr. Cullen's claim that he shot Mike Newton, Jr. in self-defense, has been overwhelmingly in his favor. I hereby find the defendant, Edward Cullen, innocent of murder and cleared of all charges." The gavel came down sharply on the table as the Judge lowered his head into his hands.

The crowd broke into a loud buzz of excitement and anger. Most of the anger was directed squarely at Mike Newton, Sr., whose wife sat in a corner sobbing softly into a handkerchief. She stood slowly and walked up to her husband. "Mae, you can't believe a single word of it," he pleaded. Her only response was a sharp slap across his inflated and ruddy face. She deftly sidestepped him and made her way to the door.

Ward stood up and moved quickly to the outer door, intercepting Mrs. Newton just as she made to leave. "Ma'am, I am truly sorry that this happened. I never meant for your boy to be harmed."

"I know you didn't. He was my son but he was impulsive and foolish, much like his father. Thank you for your apology. I accept it." She gave a tight smile and hurried away from the building.

The Marshal took both Sheriff Crowley and Judge Banner, as well as Big Mike into custody and left James in charge as the interim Sheriff until a new one could be chosen for the town. It would take a day or two to ride back to the territorial seat in Tucson and gather up the required authorities in order the set to rights the judicial disaster that had arisen in Phoenix.

James escorted Ward and Jacob down to the hotel after Doc Brown had checked Ward's injuries. His ankle was swollen up again from the fall through the trap door of the gallows and his ribs were awful sore, but the Doc figured they'd be alright with some extra binding strips around the torso. Ward didn't even bother counting the split lip and the black eye that the sheriff had given him. The only thing that really bothered him was the angry, red rope burn that nearly circled his neck.

The exhaustion of the last couple of weeks was finally weighing down on him, his eyes barely staying opened long enough to eat a meal. Before James left, he handed Ward his gun belt.

"I was able to retrieve it from the Valentine place before we left Devil's Fork. I figured you'd probably want it back."

Ward nodded his head and replied, "Much obliged James. For everything. You're alright in my book."

"It was the least I could do for getting you mixed up with the Valentines in the first place. If it hadn't been for me, you'd have been long gone from there."

Ward shook his head lightly, "Naw, I'd have stuck around anyhow."

James nodded thoughtfully. "Izzy? She's a good woman, even if I did give her a hard time."

Ward gave him an answering nod then asked, "Speaking of women, I've always wondered why you're so skittish around Rosalita."

James turned away and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck as his face turned a blistering red. "Shi-yooot," he drawled. "I never thought I'd ever have to tell this one."

"Well, I think you're gonna have to now. Or I could just have her tell me when I get back to Devil's Fork," said Ward with a mischievous glint in his eye.

James turned back to face him, "Let's just say I was behaving less like a gentleman than I should've been, and she took a chunk out of my hind quarters the size of a silver dollar with that whip of hers." He gave Ward a sheepish look. "I learnt my lesson, and try to never come within striking distance of her, or that bull whip, again."

Ward laughed as heartily as his injured ribs would allow. "I'll be sure to send her your best when I get back home," he chuckled.

"Home, huh?" James said with a cocked eyebrow. Now it was Ward's turn to look sheepish as he gave a slight nod. "You do that," smiled James as he shook Ward's hand.

"So do you think you'll make it back up to Devil's Fork?" Ward asked as he looked at the man that he now considered a friend.

"I don't rightly know. If this lawman gig works out, I may stay down here in these parts for a spell."

Ward nodded in understanding. A man had to go where he could make a living. Since the Valentine's were no longer a presence in Devil's Fork, there wasn't much for James to do up there. He'd do well as a lawman and Ward told him as much.

After Ward and Jacob shook James' hand one final time, he turned and strolled back toward the jail.

Jacob followed Ward up to his hotel room and began making a poultice using tobacco leaves and other herbs. He wet it all down and wrapped Ward's ankle and ribs with the concoction.

"It will help with the bruising. Perhaps in a few days we can return to Devil's Fork."

"A few days my eye," came Ward's scoffing reply. "We're leaving at first light. I can't leave Bella to stew for that long. Heck, I've let her stew for far too long as it is. With no way of telling when the telegraph line gets fixed, we need to get back there on the double."

"I figured that's what you would say. You'll need to take it easy, but hopefully the poultices will help."

"I just need to get back to her."

"We will my friend. We will."

# # # # # # #

The day after Edward's hanging, Bella took to her bed, lying there and staring at nothing in particular. She rose only to answer nature's call before falling back upon the covers. She couldn't bring herself to care about anything that was going on around her. It was so much worse than when she had lost her father. While she still missed him so, this felt as if a part of her had been torn away, leaving only a gaping wound that throbbed with each breath she took. Alice brought her trays of food that remained untouched. He heart was broken into thousands of jagged little pieces that seemed to cut at her soul each time she moved. So she remained still.

When she did manage to doze off into a fitful sleep, she would awaken screaming Ward's name and crying hysterically before falling into the waiting arms of Alice. The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on both women.

On the third morning, Rosalita came in and for a moment, Bella feared that she would literally whip her out of bed. She was surprised though, by the compassion that Rosalita showed her.

"Yo se. I know what you feel, mi Bella. Mi esposo, Rafael, he was killed in the war." Rosalita's accent was much more pronounced as she spoke of her lost love. Silently she stroked Bella's hair, giving her a few moments to think.

"Does it ever go away? The hurt?"

A sad smile graced Rosalita's lips and she softly shook her head. "It gets smaller and smaller, but it will always be there. You will find another one day who almost makes you forget, like Emmett, mi toro hermoso. But _he_ will always be here in your heart. Just like my Rafael is always with me."

"I don't want to find another," Bella whispered into the pillow.

"No one is saying you should find someone else today, but you must rejoin the living. Come Bella, come with me to Emmett's. He needs some extra help today."

Rosalita tugged on Bella's arms and helped her get dressed. Bella sat motionless, listening as Rosalita spoke softly in Spanish while she combed and plaited her hair. She followed wordlessly as they walked down to the Saloon. As they passed the bank, Bella couldn't help herself as she poked her head inside and looked hopefully at Jasper.

"Sorry, Bells. Still nothing."

Her face fell as she nodded dejectedly and returned to the boardwalk where Rosalita was waiting patiently for her. They quietly crossed the street and headed into the Devil's Luck.

Emmett was freshly shaven, save his twirly handlebar mustache. His hair was neatly slicked down on either side. His white shirt was clean and bright, the black garters wrapped tightly around the muscles of his upper arms. He grinned at Rosalita and grabbed her up into a searing kiss.

His eyes were much more gentle as they settled on Bella. She just seemed to be adrift in an ocean of feelings that she couldn't navigate.

"My momma always said that idle hands are the devil's tools. Care to help me out?" He held a rag out to her and led her to a large tray of glasses and mugs of various sizes.

"Sure Emmett," she responded with a weak smile. "I'm gonna have to go down to Phoenix soon. Who do you suppose could go with me?"

"What for, Bells?"

"I need to bring him back here, Em. He should be buried here, on our property."

"We'll figure something out, Bella. Don't you worry."

An awkward silence filled the air for a long while. Emmett busied himself with taking inventory of his stock, and serving the early birds who started their drinking well before lunch time.

When there was a lull in business, Emmett cleared his throat and spoke. "You know, me and Jasper and a few of the other fellers, were planning on helping you clear off your land; start over and such, if you want." He looked so earnest and eager to help in the only way he really knew how.

"That's mighty kind, Emmett. Mighty kind." She didn't know what else to say beyond that so she focused on the chore she been set to and didn't let her mind wander past the water spots on the glasses.

As the day wore on, customers came in and out, music played and Bella was in the back, counting bottles of whiskey and other spirits. She'd just gotten to the one case of sasparilla, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Slowly she began to count the bottles. They were all there save one. The one that Eddie had drunk when she ran into him and ruined his shirt. A fresh wave of tears sprung to her eyes. She went back out to the front and reached under the bar for a clean rag and furiously wiped her eyes. The saloon doors clattered open and shut, which by itself wasn't anything special, but the silence that followed was unusual. The music stopped abruptly and the chatter died as if it had been swallowed up by the sea.

Slowly Bella stood up and looked to the entrance. She shook her head once, because she was positive that she was seeing things. She rounded the end of the bar and took a few steps forward, hesitating; not wanting to be fooled by her own desperate imagination. But there he stood, her Eddie. In his long black duster and a new hat. His face was bruised and his lip was still healing from a nasty cut, but he was alive.

"Eddie?" she stepped forward clutching the material of her dress right over her heart.

"It's me, darlin'."

"Eddie!" she cried as she stumbled into his arms. She wrapped herself around him, kissing his face and neck and chest and anywhere else she could reach. She was frantic in her efforts to reassure herself that he was really here. She stopped when she heard a pained grunt, and pulled back.

"Gently love. Gently," he said grimacing at the force with which she was holding him. Immediately she let go and tried to move away, but he held her fast.

"Oh, for pity's sake, Eddie, you're hurt! I don't want to cause you any more pain," her voice was tortured as she again attempted to move out of his arms.

"I'm never letting you go," he replied, scooping her up under her legs and carrying her out the saloon door.

He leaned down and covered her lips with his, pressing firmly, savoring the sweet taste of his true love. She responded hungrily, nipping and suckling his lower lip as their mouths caressed one another. In that one kiss, he erased all the worry and sadness that had surrounded Bella these last few weeks. She knew he wasn't going anywhere.

Their very public display of affection on the boardwalk in front of the saloon was cut short by the throat clearing of Emmett who offered them a room if they wanted some privacy.

Ward grinned and gently shook his head. "We're off to the preacher's house."

Bella's eyes grew huge at his statement, and then a grin settled across her features and she nodded in agreement.

Emmett snickered, and shook his head, turning back into the saloon.

Bella looked up into her Edward's green eyes, bringing her hand to his cheek. "You came back," she said, smiling softly.

"I made a promise. And I'm nothing if not a man of my word. I love you, Bella."

"I love you too, Edward. Always."

They kissed all the way to the preacher's house.

**# # # # # # # #**

**A/N**

**Melly: Hey, Belly.**

**Belly: Yes, Melly?**

**Melly: I have a contest for our readers.**

**Belly: Oh, that sounds like fun. What is it?**

**Melly: I'm giving away bonus points and cyber cookies to whomever can name the 3 pop-culture references in this chapter (2 movies and 1 TV show) (And the bonus points are like those on the show "Whose Line is it Anyway?"- The points really mean nothing.)**

**Belly: Maybe we could give the winners a sneak-peak at the "M" rated out-take for the next chapter. You know I REALLY want to write one.**

**Melly: ****Oh I know you do, *dirty mama*. But that would probably be better than meaningless points and phantom cyber cookies. Though it does mean you're actually going to have to write one PDQ. And I think I know the "inspiration scene" you're going to be using...**

**Belly: ****Oh, you know I'm so thinking "Australia"- *says Belly with a wicked gleam in her eye***

**Melly: Can we dream of Westward and Drover tonight?**

**Belly: Yum-yum!**

**Melly & Belly: * ****sigh ***


	15. Epilogue: When the Dust Settles

**A/N: A Big Hello to all our lovely readers. Melly and I can't believe the story is finished. We hope you enjoy this final chapter and will remember the story with a big smile on your face. **

**A special "Thank You" to Ironic Twist for rec'ing this story and bringing a lot of new readers into the fold. If you enjoy historical romances, then be sure to check out her summer fic, "The Bargain". **

**Once again, our thanks go out to our awesome beta, SweetThunder, for sharing her special talents to make this story even more special.**

**Yes, Stephenie Meyer still owns the Twilight characters, but WE OWN WESTWARD! He belongs to us and we certainly have enjoyed playing with him all these months. We hope all you guys have, too!**

**So now, please enjoy….**

**Our final ...**

**Westward**

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

**Chapter 15 - Epilogue: When the Dust Settles**

_**Devil's Fork **_

_**July, 1881**_

Jasper tapped the sheaf of papers on his desk and arranged them into a neat pile before setting them to the side. His attention was drawn away from the desk by the raucous noise coming from below. He peered out the wavy glass window and noted with some displeasure another large group of miners tumbling out of The Devil's Luck.

In the six years since all the nasty business with the Valentines went down, much had happened in the sleepy little town of Devil's Fork; howeversleepy was no longer a proper way to describe the now-bustling city. Though many changes had been for the better, there were many Jasper could do without. He rubbed his temples as he turned away from the window.

Even though the California gold rush was long over, there were always men looking for easy money and word of gold — lots of gold — being found in the area had spread like wild fire. This caused a huge influx of prospectors, gamblers, con-men, and all of the other riff-raff that follow the kind of folk who look to get rich quick, to come streaming into the town.

A tent city had cropped up not far from what used to be Miss Vicky's hotel, though she'd settled down and sold it off to one of the other working gals; business there was booming, much to the chagrin of the prim and proper set.

With this steadily increasing population came the need for supplies and other hard goods. A new mercantile had been set up on the opposite side of town from the original store, and both were still cleaned out of much of the basic necessities people were requiring. Almost every woman in town had extra work mending clothes and doing laundry. Digging for gold was frustrating work, so Emmett had plenty to do in the evenings as well, serving up libations to all the depressed miners who darkened his doorstep. There was a cobbler in town who had begun to put a pebble in a bucket for each pair of shoes he made and repaired. He told the town children that there was a nickel hidden in the bucket and when it was full he would let them all go at it to find the nickel. After the first bucket turned into a brawl of about 20 ten-year-olds, Jasper quickly put an end to that.

Rosalita had hired two apprentices and another master blacksmith to keep up with the demands of the miners for tools, shoes for their horses, and other metal work needed for their operations. The shop was so busy fixing tools and gear she had the bellows pumping from before the sun came up to after it went down. She had also taken a small step back from doing much of the heavy work in order to raise her ever increasing brood of children.

She and Emmett had gotten married and had become quite prolific in their ability to produce offspring. Their oldest, Alejandro – or Alex for short – could frequently be found in the shop pulling the bellows for the fire. And while she was busy with her family, it wasn't uncommon to see Rosalita herself, pounding away on a glowing red piece of iron with the baby, Carmelita, secured to her back in a large swath of fabric. The twins, Esperanza and Marisol, were usually running loose around the piano of the Devil's Luck or in Alice's dress shop "helping". Emmett had a constant grin plastered to his face and you could see the pride he had for his family practically bursting out of his chest.

Jasper couldn't help smiling as he thought about the twins. They were the light in Alice's life; all of the children in their close-knit circle of friends were special to both of them. Try as they might, he and his wife had not been blessed with little ones. That didn't stop them though from enjoying their roles as surrogate aunt and uncle to the constantly growing population of children in Devil's Fork.

He frowned when one of the rowdies in the street pulled his pistol and shot it into the air. It didn't take long, though, for one of Sheriff Cheney's deputies to break up the knot of drunken men in the street and send them on their way. The expansion of the two cell jail house to four cells took place a couple years back and unfortunately had been put to good use. The Sheriff had deputized two men shortly after the first wave of miners poured into the town. He nearly cried tears of joy when James Dunbar rode back into town last year. It was James that had made an honest woman out of Miss Vicky. They had settled down and even had a youngin' of their own named Lawrence. His bright orange hair was a bit unfortunate, but he was a sweet baby nonetheless.

It was taking all of their efforts to keep the peace in the burgeoning boom-town this afternoon and Jasper was sure it would probably take all of the able-bodied men they had to make sure that tomorrow's festivities went off without a hitch. That was one of the things that irked Jasper the most about being the Mayor; when things turned out well, it was undoubtedly due to his wife's impeccable ability to plan a social function. If something went wrong, it was all his fault.

He sighed as he pulled the shade down over the upper floor window, though blocking the sun did very little to block the sweltering heat. Jasper pulled on his vest, re-buttoned the top of his shirt, and descended the stairs that led from his office to the main gathering room in the town hall. He glanced briefly at the large red, white, and blue festoons of fabric that had been tacked to the walls in preparation for the big ceremony. The stage was similarly decorated and all of the benches arranged so that the gathering hall could accommodate as many people as possible. They'd even brought in some hay bales and lined them up along the walls for extra seating. This room would be packed full of people and brimming over with fun and excitement. His wife sure could put together a right proper shindig.

He locked up behind himself and headed home to a hot meal and his beautiful wife. Jasper stabled his horse and strode in through the back door, snaking an arm around Alice's slim waist. She was stirring a large pot of stew, sprinkling a pinch of something into the mix. Her face was glistening with perspiration from the heat outside and the heat of the stove. Jasper thought she was practically glowing and her beauty still took his breath away.

"Smell's tasty. Are Bella and Ward here yet?" asked Jasper, poking a finger into the pot and getting a smack with a wooden spoon as a reward.

"Tsk. Keep your paws out of the food. And you know he's gone by Ed since the moment his name was cleared in Phoenix." Alice narrowed her eyes as Jasper stuck his finger in his mouth and pulled it out with a pop.

"I know. I just can't get used to it. Not sure why." He shrugged his shoulders and pecked a kiss on Alice's cheek. Just then two little bullets zipped into the kitchen both shouting, "Uncle Jasper! Uncle Jasper!" Jasper was nearly bowled over as a brown-haired little boy and an auburn-haired little girl crashed into his legs and began jumping up and down with an energy rivaled only by his wife.

"Masen! Renny-Beth! How are my two favorite troublemakers?"

"Good!" they both chimed with a cherubic mischief glinting in their eyes. They each immediately launched into separate accounts of all the things they'd done, since the last time they'd seen their Aunt and Uncle, in excruciating detail. They were so engrossed in the telling of their own tales, that they didn't even notice that Alice continued on with the interrupted conversation.

"Does that answer your question?" Alice asked with an amused chuckle. "They got here a little while ago. Bella's getting their bags unpacked and everything settled upstairs, and Ed stepped out to meet with the representatives staying at the new hotel. I suppose he still feels like he needs to keep the wheels greased, so-to-speak." Alice pulled the white flour-sack towel from her apron and used it to open the oven door. She eyed the loaf of bread, thumped it once with her index finger and nodded, pulling it out with the towel.

"Nah, it couldn't be as simple as that. It's not like they're gonna tear up the track. He's got to be thinking something else," said Jasper, contemplatively rubbing the five o'clock shadow on his chin.

"Well whatever it is, he better be back soon. Supper's almost ready." Alice smiled up at her husband and reached up on her tip-toes for a quick peck on the lips.

Jasper didn't hesitate to accept the invitation and deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms fully around his wife's body and dipping her back slightly.

A high pitched giggle and a disgusted cry of, "Arrrrggghhhh. Ew! Uncle Jasper! I'm not looking!" resonated through the small kitchen. Renny-beth had both hands covering her mouth trying to stifle her laughter and Masen had both hands over his eyes as he ran around in a small circle.

"Jasper Whitlock, are you corrupting my children?" a voice called out, while slow footsteps could be heard plodding down the stairs. As Bella rounded the corner into the kitchen, her stomach leading the way, Jasper couldn't help but notice her beaming smile. She was radiant with the glow that came with expecting a baby. He chuckled as he pictured the little baby inside shielding its ears from hearing the kissin'. They would be the perfect set: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

"No ma'am," he responded with a grin, "I would never dream of corrupting these two little angels." He ruffled Masen's wild hair and scooped up Renny-Beth, setting her on his hip. "Masen was just expressing his disapproval of innocent displays of marital affection." He strode over to the door and gave Bella a one-armed hug before setting her daughter down next to her. "Why don't you come set a spell. Alice tells me supper's almost done." He then turned to Masen and asked, "Now what do you suppose a gentleman does for a lady?"

Masen tapped his chin thinking very hard. "He pulls out the chair for her!" he declared as he ran to the chair closest to his mother.

"Why thank you kind sir. What ever would I have done with out you?" Bella asked placing a kiss on her five year old son's head as she plopped down into the chair. She felt like the most ungainly creature on the planet, seeming to lumber and waddle everywhere she went. "Now do your momma a favor and grab a big drink of water for her and the baby." Masen quickly scrambled off to fulfill his mother's request.

Jasper gathered bowls and spoons to put on the table while Alice began slicing the loaf of bread.

Bella had only closed her eyes for a brief moment, but when she opened them back up, she was not at all happy with what her three-year old daughter was about to do. "Renesmee Elizabeth Cullen! Don't you dare!"

Unfortunately it was too late to stop the deed. The little imp had already plunged her pudgy hands into the uncovered lard bucket that sat in the corner next to the stove.

"What has my perfect little princess done now?" Asked the smooth-as-cream voice that came walking into the kitchen. Edward surveyed the scene and let out an amused bellow of laughter.

"Squishy Daddy!" Renny-Beth declared as she held up two gloppy handfuls of the semi-hard rendered fat, her dark brown eyes flashing with mischief.

"Yes honey, but that's not such a good thing to play with," Edward cut through the middle of the room and picked up his little girl, holding her at arms length. He walked with purposeful strides directly out the back door that Alice was currently holding open, and to the pump where a cake of soap and a large wash tub were waiting. Alice flung a towel over Ed's shoulder on his way out and tapped Renny-Beth on the rear end, just to distract the little girl from her laughing.

Once she was cleaned up, the pair headed back inside. They all seemed to gravitate to the table and though it was Jasper's house, everyone was looking to Ed. "Everything smells delicious, Alice. Are we ready?"

"We just need to say grace and then we can dig in."

Jasper nodded at Edward, who offered a short blessing on the food and they tucked in to their supper. The conversation was light, most of it centering on the events that were scheduled for the next day.

"I still can't believe they chose my Eddie to cut the ribbon!" Bella exclaimed. Crazy Izzy may be far in the past, but Bella was still a homebody and would rather dance with an ornery bear than be the center of attention.

Shortly after their home was rebuilt, a group of men from the same outfit the Valentines had been working with, came into town with a railroad survey crew. For a bit, they were insistent that the only way for the railroad to pass through Devil's Fork, as opposed to ten miles further south-thereby eliminating the economic boon a rail road station would bring to the town-would be to pass right through the Cullen ranch and the Hualapai's newly-rebuilt village.

Ed nearly came to blows with the men before one of them, a Mr. Kingman, suggested a meeting be organized to determine if there might be a better route. It had taken several months, but Ed, the tribal elders, and the railroad men were finally able to come to a mutually satisfactory route that skimmed the edges of both the Cullen property and the Hualapai land and allowed for the economical construction of the railroad.

The Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad company paid both parties a handsome fee for an easement that would allow tracks to be built as well as a railway station and a water tower. Construction began not long after the deal was struck and the rail was now laid through to Beale's Springs. The plan was for the line to eventually go all the way to Needles, California.

As Bella watched them build, she couldn't help but be swept away in her imagination about all the wonderful adventures and travel people on the railroad would have. She imagined where they would be going, why, and with whom they would go. Then she would look around at her ranch, her husband, her children, and she couldn't imagine anything more adventurous or fun than the family and life she had right there.

The festivities tomorrow were in honor of the grand opening of the railroad line and station. Because of Edward's participation in the negotiations, with the Hualapai in particular, he had been asked to cut the ribbon. As a testament to his honorable nature, he only agreed on the condition that Chief Black also be included in the ceremony.

The whole town was buzzing with excitement over the impending festivities, though not all of it was positive. There were a few naysayers and folks that were disgruntled by how prosperous the land deal was for the Cullens and the tribe.

There had been a few incidents early on in the negotiations: some property stolen, some vandalism, and other minor acts of mischief. Though once the story of how Isabella Cullen had single-handedly taken down Arrow Valentine, and Ed Cullen's own notoriety had circulated through all of the troublemakers, any further attempts to disrupt life on the Cullen ranch ceased.

"So are all the dignitaries taken care of, Edward?" Bella looked up expectantly, sopping up the last of her stew with a thick crust of bread.

"Yes, they're all in high spirits for tomorrow's proceedings. And everything is looking right on target to cut the ribbon just as the noon train rolls in," he responded uneasily, shooting a cautious glance at Jasper.

"Oh, this is so exciting! Are you excited to see the big steam engine, Masen?" Alice, ignoring the strange tension that had cropped up, was effervescent in her enthusiasm; Masen was particularly influenced by her energy.

"Uh huh, and Papa said I could get inside if the conducticator says it was okay." The little boy's green eyes glittered with excitement as the smile spread across his face, revealing the gaping hole left by his missing front tooth.

"Hey, Masen," Jasper called out. "How does a train hear?"

"Huh?" Masen's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"How does a train hear?" Jasper repeated patiently, a rueful smile lighting up his angular jaw, revealing his own shiny, gold tooth.

"I dunno. How does a train hear?" Masen replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"With it's Engine-ears!"

Masen continued to look at Jasper until the light of understanding illuminated his features. He grabbed both of his ears and jumped out of his chairs. "Ooooohhhh I get it. Uncle Jasper that's just ridickerous. Engines don't have ears."

All of the adults chuckled at his mispronounced word, Bella chiding softly, "Ridi-cu-lous, Masen. Don't forget the 'L' sound in the middle."

"I know Momma, that's what I said. Reeeedickerous." Another round of laughter erupted, causing Masen to puff out his chest in pride at having elicited such a hearty reaction from all of the most important people in his life. He was definitely his father's child; he loved to make a show of everything.

Alice and Jasper began cleaning up the dinner mess. Renny-Beth yawned loud and long, stretching her arms up to the ceiling.

"I think it's time for my two little dust bunnies to hit the hay," Bella said, gently poking Masen on the nose.

"_Mommmmmmma_," Masen groaned, "how many times do I gots to tell you, I'm _not_ a bunny. That's what girls are."

"Don't sass your Momma," Edward's stern voice rang out behind Masen, causing a wave of sheepishness to wash over his son.

"Sorry, sir. Sorry, Momma," Masen said as he toed the floor in front of him.

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a big hug. "I forgive you. Now go mind your Pa and put your nightshirt on."

"Yes'm," the little boy replied and scrambled up the stairs.

Bella rocked forward trying to heft herself out of her chair but only managed to get halfway up before plopping back down. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue at her chuckling husband.

"Need a hand there, Mrs. Cullen?" He grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her easily to standing.

As she stretched, a twinge of pain shot across her abdomen. She gasped lightly as her hand automatically clutched at her very swollen belly.

"What is it love? Are you having pains?" He encircled her, resting his hands lightly on the hand that was already holding the underside of her stomach. He marveled at the tightness of her belly. Even though this was their third time going through the whole process, it was still a miracle. A small smile crept over his lips as the tightness dissipated and a sharp little body part, probably an elbow or some other such angular appendage, drifted by under his gentle hand.

"Oh, they come and go. That one was stronger than the last one though." Bella stood to full height, which wasn't much to speak of, and stretched backward, rubbing her hips as she steadied herself.

"Maybe you should just stay here and relax during the ceremo..."

Bella rounded on Ed faster than a rattlesnake and poked a finger into his chest. "Don't you dare start this up again. I'm going to be there and that's final. Please stop arguing the point; you won't win."

He sighed in defeat. They'd had this disagreement going on three weeks now. But Bella's stubborn self would not listen to reason. She was going to be at that ceremony come hell or high water. Or a baby for that matter.

"Fine then. Let's get you tucked into bed too, darlin'."

"I think that would be fine, handsome."

Edward twiddled with a stray piece of hair that had fallen from Bella's coiffure, tucking it behind her ear. She smiled tiredly up into his gaze and reached up on her tip toes as far as she could, trying to eliminate the space between them.

Smiling in return, he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her tenderly. His hands slid from her shoulders to around her back, holding her firmly to his chest as he molded his body around her large belly.

"Awwwww, not agin'!" Masen's voice rang out from the stairs.

Bella couldn't help but smile against her husbands lips as she listened to the grumbling retreat of their boy.

"What's he mean 'again'?" asked Edward.

"Oh, he caught Alice and Jasper smoochin' earlier tonight."

The pair bid Alice and Jasper goodnight and made their way up the stairs to tuck their children into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

After a rousing rendition of _Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean_, Jasper stepped up to the podium trying to quell the applause. Nearly the entire town had shown up, including a large portion of the transient mining population. Sheriff Cheney had been keeping a watchful eye on the more rowdy bunch that had congregated in the back. Much of Haulapai tribe was also there, very quietly standing off to the side. They hadn't ever been this involved with something in town and though Ben was happy they were there, he was cautious as well.

Bella was fanning herself furiously, the hot, stagnant air in the meeting hall pressing down on her, adding to her discomfort. She smiled tightly up at her husband as Jasper began the final speech. There was something going on and everyone was keeping her in the dark, which in turn made her quite cranky.

She had questioned why he and Jasper were wearing their full gun belts, but Edward waved her off, saying something about it "just being a formality". When they arrived and she shook hands with all of the other railroad officials who'd come for the ceremony, it wasn't lost on her that they too had sidearms. In fact, as she looked around, every man in the building was wearing some kind of weapon.

She tried to listen to the speeches, but between Masen zipping his button yo-yo back and forth, Renny-Beth climbing all over what was left of her lap, and the ever-increasing pains she could no longer ignore, her concentration was fractured. She tried to school her features as another contraction crept up, but this one was much stronger than the others she'd been having, and try as she might to hide it, Edward noticed.

He made a move to get up, but she shook her head once sternly, not wanting to detract from this moment. They were minutes away from cutting the ribbon and it just wouldn't do to have the spotlight shift from the ceremony to her labor pains. His lips thinned out in an unhappy grimace, but she wouldn't allow him to leave the stand. Her stare kept him pinned to his chair like a Sunday hat on the preachers wife.

Finally Jasper finished his speech and began introducing Edward and Chief Black to the group. "If you'll all follow us outside to the station, we'll proceed with the ceremony there." Jasper tipped his hat and turned back to shake hands with Mr. Kingman and some of the other men on the stand.

Alice and Bella busied themselves trying to get the children under control while the crowd began to move toward the exit.

"How are you doing, Bella?" asked Alice, her voice tinged with concern. Bella's increasing discomfort hadn't escaped her notice either.

"Sore. This baby is certainly not cooperating with today's schedule."

"Do we need to get you home?"

"For heaven's sake, Alice! This whole whoop-de-doo is almost over—Masen! Finger out of your nose please—I'm not going anywhere." Bella gave her friend a sharp look and then turned to her son-who at least had the decency to look contrite for his bad manners-taking his finger and wiping it on his shirt.

"Well let's head on over to the station then."

Bella took Renny-Beth by the hand and started into the aisle when a loud bang echoed through the room. Instinctively Bella ducked down, covering her daughter with her own body and pulling her son as close to her skirts as she could.

Screams rang out and people began scurrying everywhere. Bella chanced a look up and saw a wild-eyed man in a tattered and dirty white suit, wielding two pistols and wearing an expression of crazed desperation in his eyes.

"Cullen!" the man shouted, pointing one of his pistols directly at Ed.

The room quieted almost instantly, save for the distinct clicks of several dozen hammers cocking back, ready to fire.

The Sheriff made a move from behind, toward the man, but with a tiny twitch of his head, Ed communicated that Cheney should stand down. The Sheriff backed off carefully, but still stood at the ready. James was silently moving around to the other side of the man in order to flank him when the moment presented itself.

"Heard you might be stoppin' by. You got a lot of nerve showing up here today, Newton!" Ed responded from the front of the gathering hall. Bella noticed that Ed didn't look at all surprised to see Newton. He was still on the raised stage, and so had a much better vantage point than did Michael Newton, Sr. Though, at the moment, vantage points were the last thing on Newton's mind. He was out for blood. Bella was madder than a swarm of angry bees when another contraction pulled across her belly so tight, she couldn't look at Ed to shoot daggers at him with her eyes.

"I'm ruined! I'm ruined and it's your fault! My wife turned me out. My store's gone bust. My name is mud from here to Tucson. None of my kin will have anything to do with me and it's all your fault!" Newton began charging up the aisle toward the front of the stage, both pistols pointed at Ed's chest.

Seeing what was about to happen, Bella reacted in an instant; no matter what, she would protect her family. At the very last second, she stepped her foot in front of Newton causing him to go sprawling on the floor, one of the pistols skidding away from his hand.

With a surprising amount of agility for a man of such portly girth as Newton Sr., he jumped up quickly and rounded on Bella, who was now slightly doubled over holding her belly. She glanced once at Edward and then back to Newton who was now seething and red-faced with fury.

It was all the time Ed needed. As soon as Newton began raising the gun level with Bella's eyes, Ed drew his trusty Colt with lightning quickness and fired.

Newton's face was wild with surprise as the second gun flew out of his hand. James deftly caught the airborne weapon and moved in on Newton as Cheney surged in from the other side. In less than a minute, Newton was in irons and being led kicking and screaming down to the jail.

Ed leapt off the stage and pushed his way through the crowd toward his wife. She was white-faced and breathing in short puffs. "Bella! What in the he...what were you thinking? We're you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Hooo hooo hooo—I wasn't—hooo hooo hooo—thinking," she hissed through deep panting breaths. She let out a pained grunt and closed her eyes. "And we'll talk about you expecting that scoundrel later. Right now, go cut that ribbon then take me back to Alice and Jasper's."

"I'm taking you back now. No if's, and's, or but's."

"No you're not. Go cut the doggone ribbon. NOW!" Bella pushed Edward toward the door with all the force she could muster.

"I will do no such.." Edward began to try and make his point, but Alice cut him off.

"Edward, the longer you stand here and argue with her, the longer it will take to get her home. Just go quickly. I won't leave her side!"

Reluctantly, Edward began backing away toward the exit door. Thankfully, the deputies had cleared out the gathering room of most of the crowd. Just as Edward reached the door, he heard his daughter ask, "Momma, how come you'we wet? Did you pee pee youself?"

He started moving back toward his wife but she silently pointed to the door, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was to finish his honorary duties for the day. He cursed her stubborn nature under his breath-because he'd really have gotten whatfor if his children had heard him cursing-and ran over to the station.

"Come on," he shouted leaping up the stairs to the door, "let's get this done with. I'm about to be a daddy again."

Jasper handed him a pair of scissors and smiled once. Everyone seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and quickly assembled for the obligatory photograph of the event. Once the photograph was taken, Ed and Chief Black together cut the ribbon. Jasper welcomed everyone to the brand new Devil's Fork railway station. Edward was already racing back to the gathering hall and his mule of a wife, though he'd never say that to her face since he much preferred living to a slow, torturous death.

He was glad to see that Emmett had gone and pulled a wagon up and that Bella was settled in the back with Rosalita and Alice at her sides. The older children sat on the tail gate of the wagon swinging their feet while Ed scooped up Renny-Beth, held her over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and jumped into the seat next to Emmett. The loud howl of a whistle could be heard in the short distance as the noon train pulled into the brand new station.

"Let's go, Emmett!"

With a sharp snap of the reins, Emmett drove through town back to Alice and Jasper's home. The children were giddy and laughing at the bumps and wobbles in the road. Bella, on the other hand, had to suppress several choice words for her chauffeur.

"Emmett! You keep this up and I think I'd rather walk!" she shouted instead.

"Almost there! Just hold tight."

Several hours later, the children all fed and playing in the small garden behind the Whitlock home, the shrill cry of a newborn babe was heard floating down from the upper story windows.

"It's a boy!" shouted Edward from the window.

Simultaneously, Masen let out a whoop, while Renny-Beth sighed grumpily and whined, "I wanted a sistoh." She was still having trouble saying the letter "R".

Masen, Renny-Beth, Alex, Esperanza, and Marisol went running up the back steps into the kitchen, all clamoring to see the new baby. Emmett followed the brood, holding little Carmelita in his arms. Rosalita stepped out and headed everyone off at the pass. One stern look from her and they all made sure they were washed up and sitting quietly in the parlor.

One at a time, they all got to go upstairs and meet the newest member of the family. Masen sat gingerly at the foot of his mother's bed while his father helped him hold his new baby brother. "What're we gonna call him, Pa?"

"Charlie. His whole name is Charles Carlisle Cullen."

Masen nodded thoughtfully and said, "For Grampa Charlie and Grampa Carlisle."

"That's right," Edward smiled down at his son and watched as Charlie's unfocused blue eyes gazed up at his big brother. After a few minutes, Masen began to squirm, so Edward took the little bundle from his arms and sent him back downstairs.

A few minutes later, Renny-Beth toddled up the stairs. She peered into the blankets, that were now resting in the crook of Bella's arm, and wrinkled her nose. "Momma, how come he's not a sistoh baby?"

Bella smiled at her daughter's question. "He's not a sister because he's a brother. Because that's what God blessed us with."

Renny-Beth thought on this answer for a while, stroking the new baby's cheek with her own chubby finger. "Well, I 'appose you not so bad. Hullo, Chawlie." She then leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss on his head.

Once all the other children had had their chance to "ooh and ahhh" over the baby, Alice and Rosalita finished cleaning up the messy linens and left the new mother and father with some privacy.

Edward knelt down and leaned forward to kiss his wife tenderly. She sighed in exhausted contentment and pressed her lips gently against his.

"I'm sorry I was so stubborn."

"Me too. I'm just glad you didn't get hurt."

"I am most grateful for that."

"I love you."

"I love you too. So much."

Edward and Bella rested in comfortable silence, admiring the newest addition to their family. Twists of fate and coincidences had brought them back together. Edward never thought he'd ever live long enough to see himself so domesticated.

The life of a hired gun was never guaranteed beyond his own skill, and how widely lady luck smiled upon him. For Ed Cullen, he'd never been happier than where he was right at this moment.

"So, my love, when did you want to give Renny-Beth a little sister?" He grinned at the slack-jawed expression on the loveliest spit-fire of a woman he'd ever come across.

"I suppose when hell freezes over would be plenty of time," Bella replied with a sassy grin.

Ed kissed Charlie's forehead and then kissed Bella while silently thanking God for all the goodness that had come into his life.

That next spring it snowed three inches in May. Renny-Beth was more excited than anyone.

**The End!**

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**Melly: ****Boy we sure were on a roll with those commas tonight, huh?**

**Belly: You said it. Boy, if I had a nickel for every comma in that story, I'd have... a lotta nickels.**

**Melly: ****You know I'm only talking about commas so that I can avoid talking about how this is the end of Sexy Marksman Westward...**

**Belly: Oh, please, you're gonna make me cry, saying "end" and "WestWard" in the same sentence... * sniff ***

**Melly: ****I know, but let's focus on the happy times. It sure was fun writing that hottie of a gunslinger wasn't it?**

**Belly: Indeed it was, Melly. And on a brighter note, you've started writing an new story.**

**Melly:****Yes I have. The teaser/description can be found right under this little conversation, as a matter of fact. I'm hoping to start posting it in a few weeks so if anyone wants to know when it's up, they need to check that little author alert box! You've also got several works-in-progress yourself as well. (Mmmmm SWATward...)**

**Belly: Yes, maybe I'll be able to get another chapter posted of BWFA (SWATward), or TwiTrek (SpaceWard), or Rocket Man (NASA/FarmWard). I have a few choices.**

**Melly: ****Well, it's been a wonderful ride and I've loved every minute of the journey with you BB and all our wonderful readers! I think it only fair to wish them all a good night.**

**Belly and Melly: ****May your dreams be filled with Westward! * sigh ***

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Here's the summary of Melolabel's new story:

New Story: Come Back To Me

By: Melolabel

AH/AU Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Target Start Date: 9/1/10

When the fire of newlywed love cools, and the demands of life take over, how can you rise above the storm and resist drifting apart? Bella is drowning in a sea of doubt and loneliness while Edward has become so focused on his career goals that he is blind to his crumbling marriage. What kind of wake-up call will it take to get back to their happily-ever after?


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